


The Last Dance of the Fireflies

by YamatosSenpai



Category: Tiger & Bunny
Genre: Alternate Universe - Robin Hood, M/M, Robin Hood References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-13
Updated: 2015-04-13
Packaged: 2018-03-22 17:19:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 29,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3737149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YamatosSenpai/pseuds/YamatosSenpai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Robin Hood/AU/BL__ Barnaby Brooks Jr. has just returned from the crusades. The nobleman, Brooks, quickly discovers bandits infesting his forest and learns that his homeland has fallen prey to the violent, malicious Sheriff of Sternbild, Jake Martinez. Barnaby soon teams up with the thief, Wild Tiger, but his feelings for the outlaw rapidly grow complicated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that I use they/them/their pronouns for Fire Emblem, who is a canon non-binary character. Thank you.

“Come out! We know you’re here!” One of the sheriff’s men hollered.  He peered into the thick woods suspiciously. “Come out or we’ll kill every single man, woman and child in this forest!” The officer gestured to his associates, telling them to spread out.

Up above, in the trees, a man wiped at the sweat on his brow, readjusting his partial face mask. “ _Oh, Tomoe_ ,” he whispered, closing his amber eyes with a sigh. His fingertips gripped the rough bark of the tree and he took a deep breath. “ _I’m sorry…”_ His mouth quivered slightly before he opened his eyes, dropping down to the forest floor with natural ease.

“You finally show yourself?” the sheriff’s man taunted, looking around at his comrades with a smile. “Draw your sword and die like a man, _Little_ Tiger…” The officer brandished his sword, extending his arms in presentation.

“Little Tiger?”  The amber eyed man sighed, rubbing the back of his head in defeat. “It’s Wild Tiger…” He smiled sheepishly, shrugging, “Do people really call me Little Tiger?”

“You should be drawing your sword.” The officer spat.

“I haven’t even got a sword.” The amber eyed man insisted, he raised his hands and grinned apologetically.

“Some rebel you are…” the sheriff’s man clicked his tongue in irritation. He nodded toward the bowman behind him before climbing back onto his horse. “Remove his mask and kill him.”

“Aye, Sir.”

Wild Tiger took a sharp intake of breath, his amber eyes flashing, and reflecting blue. He dodged the arrow and lunged forward, kicking and striking the bowman’s leg out from under him. A second bowman released an arrow, the tip searing through Tiger’s shirt. “Too close.”

“This is ridiculous! Kill him.” The officer demanded, hopping off his horse with a scowl. “He’s unarmed…”

Wild Tiger groaned as the sheriff’s men surrounded him. “Look, I don’t want to hurt anyone…”

“You mock us openly?” the officer growled, unsheathing his sword. “I will enjoy you tasting the end of my sword, _Little Tiger_.”

Wild Tiger moved reflexively, his movements efficient and overwhelming. He had immobilized all of the sheriff’s men within a minute, except one. The officer struck Wild Tiger in the side, his sword piercing through Tiger, just above the hip. Wild Tiger groaned, biting down on his lip. He gripped the sword in both hands and stepped forward, walking off the end of the sword.

Wild Tiger turned, the bloodied sword falling between the two men. “It’s time to let out a wild roar,” Tiger said irritably before head-butting the officer at full strength. The officer spun in a small circle before collapsing to the ground, his bottom up in the air comically.

Tiger sank down onto one knee, his hand pressing to the wound. “I’m surprised you didn’t bring the whole forest down, _Crusher of Justice_.” Tiger looked up at the larger man approaching and shook his head, laughing softly.

“Antonio, shut up and help me up.” Tiger grimaced as the man hoisted him to his feet.

“It’s not worth this, Kotetsu,” Antonio, known to everyone as Rock Bison, warned, his eyes searching Tiger’s. “I fight when I need to, but you, but all this…” Rock Bison gestured to the sheriff’s unconscious men. “You should focus on Kaede. Pay the tax, keep her safe, keep your head down.”

“Pft!” Tiger shuffled away with a limp, hoping to distance himself as quickly as possible from the scene. “My Ma and brother can hardly afford the tax as it is… the people can’t survive like this.”

“The people aren’t your problem, Kotetsu.” Rock Bison insisted as he pushed his ruddy brown hair from his eyes. “You could go back home, ya know. Be with your daughter…”

“I…” Tiger began unsurely. “I’m not like normal men… I have… I have a responsibility.”

“You have a deathwish.” Rock Bison corrected sourly. “And as your friend, I am required to inform you.”

“Noted.” Tiger waved his hand dismissively, pausing as a rope ladder fell to the forest floor before him. He looked up and smiled, climbing the ladder with practiced ease. He didn’t know how to explain it, but the wound at his hip had already healed.

* * *

 

“Tiger! Tiger! Wake up!” Tiger’s eyes blinked open, heavy with sleep. At first he was confused, wondering why Kaede, his daughter, was suddenly there. As his thoughts connected he sat up, nearly toppling Blue Rose to the floor.

“What is it?” Tiger questioned. He stared at the teen, searching her brown eyes with concern. “Is it the sheriff?”

“No, but we need you down there…” Blue Rose insisted, her attractively round cheeks stained pink. “There’s someone at the bridge, refusing to pay the toll.”

“Huh?” Tiger complained, rubbing his eyes with exhaustion. “I was woken up for that? Just let the others handle it…”

“Tiger!” Blue Rose pinched Tiger’s arm irritably. “He took them out, Tiger!” Blue Rose gestured outside impatiently and stood. “Come on, Old man.”

Tiger climbed to his feet, rubbing his stomach as it growled in protest. “Okay, okay, I’m coming… and I’m not old… I’m just…mature.”

“Hardly, old man.” Blue Rose teased, tucking her light brown hair behind her ear. “Go on, Rock Bison is ahead of you.”

Wild Tiger walked quickly, the bridge swinging back and forth from the movement. He dropped onto the rope ladder and slid down, ignoring the burning of his palms. He brushed his hands on his pants and jogged toward the bridge. He approached cautiously, a sudden jerk of curiosity prickling in his abdomen. He hid himself behind a tree, peering into the darkness unsurely.

There was a shout and with an enormous, thunderous crash Rock Bison was sent flying through the air, leveling several trees in his path. “Anton- Rock Bison!” Tiger ran forward and then paused, the hair on the back of his neck prickling. Antonio had the strength of an animal, for someone to take him down was nearly impossible.  Several people swarmed Antonio, administering aid.

Tiger continued toward the bridge, casting one last glance at Antonio’s prone form. He came to a stop at the bridge, his worn boots still on the leaf strewn ground. “There’s a toll to cross this bridge, stranger.” Tiger adjusted his mask and looked up at the other with a grin. “Pay it or find another way.”

“I’ve already told several of your mates,” the other man began impatiently. His green eyes met Tiger’s and he smirked smugly. Tiger could tell that this stranger was a thinker and it made him inexplicably uncomfortable. “I live just on the other side of this forest, in Sternbild.  There is no way I am paying a toll to return to my own home.” The stranger narrowed his eyes. “For your information, I own this forest.”

“Nonsense.” Tiger exclaimed, looking around at his companions in surprise. “We’ve lived here for years.”

“Yes, I have heard,” The stranger answered coolly. “I was informed that thieves and other such unsavory lot moved into my lands while I was away at war.”

“War?” Tiger asked skeptically, eyeing the young man. He was handsome and refined, no more than twenty-three years of age, with flaxen hair and green eyes. He hardly had the appearance of a man ravaged by the blood of the crusades.

“Yes,” the man replied shortly. “My name is Barnaby Brooks, Jr. I served four years under King Richard I.” Barnaby took a step forward, waving his arm in a dismissive gesture. “Now clear the way.”

“Bunny?” Tiger arched his brow in surprise.

“Barnaby! Barnaby! Not Bunny!” Barnaby snapped, crossing his arms over his chest. “You are even dumber than you look.”

“We’re not thieves…” Tiger replied, shaking his head.

“What?” Barnaby asked.

“You called us thieves and an unsavory lot.” Tiger explained, irked. “We are no such thing. We are heroes.”

“Heroes?” Barnaby laughed. The sound itself ground Tiger’s last nerve. “Then show me. If you can defeat me, I will pay the toll and go on my way. If I win, you get out of my forest… all of you…”

“Fine.” Tiger muttered, rolling his shoulders backward and cracking his neck loudly.  Tiger balled his hands into fists and lowered himself into a slight squat. “Hand to hand, no weapons.”

“Don’t hurt yourself, old man,” Barnaby ribbed Tiger, his green eyes watching the older man critically. Barnaby fell silent as a rowdy crowd began to assemble around them, his whole attention on Tiger.  

“Tiger, don’t be an idiot…” Blue Rose hissed into his ear, her hands snaking around his arm. “This guy just tossed Rock Bison like a sack of flour…”

“I won’t lose.” Tiger said with a wide smile. He adjusted his mask and nodded toward Barnaby. “Not against Little Bunny, here.”

“My name is _Barnaby_.” The younger man repeated heatedly. He gestured Tiger forward and with a loud **THWACK!** they both connected. Tiger’s fist knocked Barnaby’s chin, his teeth smacking together audibly. Barnaby’s fist ground into Tiger’s stomach, nudging painfully against the sore spot at his hip.

Tiger’s eyes widened in shock as the younger man’s arm caught his own, flipping him onto his back. Tiger coughed, spitting up as his back struck the hard ground. He stared up at the forest canopy, glaring as Barnaby peered down at him. “I’m not finished.”

“Oh?” Barnaby smiled easily, his handsome, youthful face pulling taut. “You look pretty finished.”

Tiger elbowed the back of Barnaby’s leg forcefully, knocking Barnaby to the ground beside him. Barnaby’s cool demeanor cracked, his eyes widening in surprise and his jaw slackening. He composed himself quickly, his eyes narrowing in distaste. Barnaby rolled onto his knees quickly, attempting to stand.

Tiger launched himself forward, tackling Barnaby back to the ground. Tiger pinned one of Barnaby’s hands to his side, punching Barnaby in the stomach roughly. Barnaby’s free hand delivered several sharp blows to Tiger’s head. Reeling, Tiger yelped as he was rolled over onto his back.

Barnaby held Tiger down forcefully, his green eyes reflecting blue. He looked down at Tiger, long and hard, wordlessly, his thoughts whirring unspoken through his head, and then, without warning, his knee connected painfully with Tiger’s groin. “Stop wasting my time, old man.”

Tiger groaned, his hands instinctively reaching for his sensitive extremities despite Barnaby’s hold on his arms. “That was a low blow, Bunny…” Tiger growled through gritted teeth. “I see now, you’re an asshole.” Barnaby shrugged unapologetically, his brow arching expressively. Tiger nodded, smiling tightly before racking his knee against Barnaby’s groin in return.

Barnaby rolled to the side, landing on his back beside Tiger. They looked at each other angrily and then up at the forest canopy. Tiger inhaled deeply and shook his head, “Three minute break.”

“I’m kicking your ass in two.” Barnaby replied.

“You wish.” Tiger retorted, the fight draining from him rapidly. He stared up at the ceiling of green leaves and admired the beautiful patches of sky peeking through. There wasn’t a cloud in sight, just an array of beautiful blues and greens.

“Tiger?” Blue Rose called out in concern. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” Tiger replied, raising his hand and giving a slight wave. “I’m winning, don’t worry.”

“You’re hardly winning,” Barnaby muttered, sitting up and brushing the leaves and dirt from his clothes. “Get up so we can finish this.”

“Listen,” Tiger began with a guilty smile. “I think we got off on the wrong foot. You’re a pretty strong guy…”

“It’s too late. As I said, I’m in a hurry.” Barnaby interrupted. “I would rath-”

Barnaby’s sentence trailed off as Tiger lifted his hand. It brushed across Barnaby’s cheek slowly, his fingertips stroking Barnaby’s hair. Barnaby cleared his throat rapidly, his eyes blinking in surprise. His round cheeks reddened and he opened his mouth to protest. Tiger simply grinned more widely, retracting his hand to present a small, thin stick. “ _This_ was in your hair.”

“Oh, uh, thanks.” Barnaby mumbled awkwardly. He climbed to his feet, brushing his clothes off with a sigh. Barnaby crossed his arms over his chest and stuck his nose in the air, “I’m crossing _my_ bridge in _my_ forest now.” Tiger sat up, crossing his legs and placing his hands in his lap. He looked up at Barnaby expectantly. “What?”

“You should join us.” Tiger suggested. “A strong guy like you, you’d be a great hero.”

“Oh, please,” Barnaby said with a humorless laugh. “We’re hardly on the same level… you’re barely human…” Barnaby walked over to a tree, hoisting a pack onto his back. The crowd dispersed as he walked through them, unyielding and unintimidated. “Now, get off my land.”

 Tiger stood quickly, walking after Barnaby, “Nonsense, we’re not going anywhere,” Tiger said dismissively, as if the suggestion were absurd. “Look, Bunny…”

“Barnaby!” Barnaby corrected impatiently. “BAR-NA-BY!”

“My name is Wild Tiger,” Tiger announced, extending his hand to shake Barnaby’s. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you t-” Barnaby withdrew his hand abruptly, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. “Look, Old Man, I don’t have time for this and I don’t have time for you. I just want to go home for the first time in over four years…” He looked at Tiger and sighed heavily. “I fought for so long. I’m done with heroes and villains. I wish to be left alone.”

“Well you know where we are if you change your mind,” Tiger called out, smiling wide as Barnaby turned around.

“So you intend to stay; even though I have asked you to leave?” Barnaby snapped. “You know, I can _make_ you leave. Our fight is far from over…”

“Oh come on!” Tiger said with a chuckle. “You’re not so heartless to uproot women and children!” Tiger’s face darkened suddenly, his voice growing heavy and serious.  “They’ll starve in Sternbild. These people can’t afford the taxes. The men will go to jail. The women will be made into slaves. The children the same or worse… it’s so hard on children…”

“Stop talking.” Barnaby raised his hands in gesture. “Do as you will. I don’t care.”

“You’re a great guy, Bunny.” Tiger answered, watching Barnaby’s broad back as he continued through the forest.

“Is he going to let us stay?” Blue Rose asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “Can he be trusted? Won’t he just reveal our location… the reward money is rather-”

“Shhh…” Tiger smiled reassuringly, pressing his finger to Blue Rose’s plump lips. She blinked up at him in response, her cheeks burning scarlet. “It will be okay.” Tiger turned, walking back across the bridge. “That guy is like us.”

“What do you mean?” Blue Rose questioned.

“Well, a normal person can’t just throw Rock Bison, can they? And also, not to brag, but I’ve never met anyone who could match my strength…” Tiger puffed his chest out proudly. “I think he’ll come back on his own, and when he does, I think he’ll make a great hero.”

“All the heroes are dead,” one of the men derided. “They died a long time ago…”

* * *

 

“Master Barnaby! Welcome home, Sir!” the servant smiled graciously, clasping hands with Barnaby warmly.

“Thank you, John. It’s good to be home.” Barnaby replied with a smile. He shrugged his heavy pack from his shoulder and sighed in relief. “I wasn’t sure I would ever see Sternbild again.”

“Oh, now, Master Barnaby,” John clicked his tongue. “We never had any doubts, here, Sir.” _You’re foolish then_ , Barnaby thought to himself, smiling outwardly. “We have great pride in our young master.”

Barnaby jogged up the steps to his home, pausing just for a moment to press his fingers against the statue in the front garden. It wasn’t the finest sculpture of the age, but it was beautiful in its own right. The statue, the image of a noble woman, was comforting to Barnaby in some profound way. His thumb brushed against the rough edged stone and he sighed in contentment. It was finally sinking in, he was home.

“Samantha?” Barnaby called as he entered the foyer. “I’m home.”

“Barnaby…?” Samantha’s voice wavered with emotion. Barnaby smiled as her footsteps approached rapidly and, with a spark of cheekiness, he turned and pressed himself against the wall, hiding himself in the corner.

She ran into the foyer with her wrinkled hands clutching her blouse. Her face fell as she entered the empty hall, her hands fluffing her short gray hair in confusion. “Bar..na…by?”

“I’m here, Samantha.” Barnaby announced, stepping out from the wall with a playful smirk.

“Oh, you, welcome back…” Samantha smacked her hand against Barnaby’s broad shoulder and shook her head, choking back tears. “You… You’ve grown so…”

“I’m not a child anymore, Samantha.” Barnaby mumbled, lowering his eyes in embarrassment.

“I can tell.” Samantha said simply, brushing her hands on her apron. “A man stands before me.” Samantha nodded her head briefly and smiled. “I will start dinner. Beef stroganoff, your favorite.”

_Yes!_ , Barnaby thought to himself, smiling sheepishly. “Oh, anything is fine, Samantha.”

“Of course,” Samantha replied with a wink. “Dinner will be served at seven.”

Barnaby had just sat down by the fire when John called on him in the study. “Master Barnaby… you have visitors, Sir.”

“Visitors?” Barnaby asked, adjusting the spectacles on his nose. It had been so long since he had worn them, they were rather uncomfortable to wear.

“I’m afraid I have had much to tell you, but I thought it prudent to wait until you had settled in, Sir…” John began apologetically.

“Who is here to see me, John?” Barnaby asked simply.

“The Sheriff of Sternbild, Sir.” John replied.

“Bring him in.” Barnaby answered with a shrug, his green eyes narrowing. “Bring some tea as well, John.”

Barnaby’s fingers drummed against the armchair impatiently, expectantly. Barnaby cleared his throat, combing his fingers through his neat blonde hair. There was a knock on the door, “Sir, your visitors.”

“Come in.” Barnaby answered, gesturing with his hand as he spoke.

“The Sheriff of Sternbild, Master Barnaby of the House of Brooks.” John introduced the men cordially, however his lips were taut and strained.

“Please, take a seat. Welcome.” Barnaby had been raised a gentleman and no matter how long he had been away, it was his first nature. He shook hands with the other man, smiling and nodding at the men who wordlessly stood behind him.

“You’ve returned.” The sheriff said after a long stretch of silence.  His blue eyes searched Barnaby wordlessly and then he snorted, chuckling to himself at some unspoken joke. “It’s splendid that you’ve returned, Hero.”

“Hero? No, I’m just a soldier returning home.” Barnaby’s head tilted to the side, his eyes glittering in the firelight. “The crusades are over.”

“And news of the King?” The sheriff asked, leaning forward in his chair. His knees bounced obnoxiously and Barnaby was decidedly not fond of the man. “Richard…. Is he alive? Well?”

Barnaby’s flesh prickled uncomfortably, an unsettling mess of nerves swarming his belly. “The King is well.”

“Any news of his, uh, return?” The sheriff pressed anxiously.

“He was intending to take the ship after mine,” Barnaby explained. The door of the study opened quietly and John brought Barnaby and the sheriff a warm cup of tea. Barnaby smiled gratefully and lifted his cup to his lips, blowing cautiously. “I can’t imagine more than a few months until his return.”

“Ah, is that so? That’s good, that is. Great news.” The sheriff sat back in the chair, placing the teacup on the table beside him. He clasped his hands together and sighed. “Barnaby Brooks, may I call you Barnaby?”

“Of course,” Barnaby nodded.

“Barnaby, the truth is, you don’t know if he’s well, do you?” The sheriff’s blue eyes narrowed aggressively. “I mean not really… anything could’ve happened since you last saw ‘im, right?”

“I’m not sure what you mean, sheriff.” Barnaby countered, his shoulders stiffening, the muscles in his jaw flexing. “I spoke with him myself before boarding the ship. He was greatly anticipating his return to England. Are you saying something happened to the King?”

“Good, we’re on the same page…” the sheriff chuckled dryly. He sighed and placed a gloved hand against his sunken cheek. “If people were to ask…” The sheriff smiled. “About the King…” The sheriff blinked slowly, purposefully. “You would tell them…”

“I would tell them that he is alive and well.” Barnaby finished firmly.

“Ah, that’s unfortunate…” the sheriff groaned. “That’s not really the direction I was going.”

“Are you asking me to lie?” Barnaby snapped angrily.

“Are you willing to lie?” the sheriff rephrased rapidly, spitting his words out.

“No.” Barnaby answered, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Then we understand each other, which, I suppose, is the best we can do for now.” The sheriff rose, noisily sliding his chair backward as he stood. “Good day, Barnaby.”

“Good day, Sheriff.” Barnaby watched the men file out of the room motionlessly. Once the door closed, he stood and began to pace, his worn boots trampling the rug underfoot. There was a knock on the door and Barnaby jumped in surprise. “Yes?”

“Master Barnaby,” Edward, the eldest of the staff and nearly decrepit, called through the door.  “Miss Samantha says your dinner is prepared.”

“Ah, yes, thank you,” Barnaby answered, nodding to himself. “I’ll be right down.”

* * *

 

“Barnaby,” Samantha spoke softly, her hand mussing through his tousled blonde hair. “You’ve hardly eaten…” Barnaby’s green eyes met hers and he forced a tight smile. He cleared his throat and, chewing on his lip, began to push the food around with his fork. “Oh, stop it!” Samantha groaned as she pulled up an empty chair beside him. “You need your health, Master Barnaby…”

“Samantha…” Barnaby began unsurely, piercing a bit of stroganoff onto the prongs of his fork. “Sternbild has become a rather strange place, hasn’t it?”

“What do you mean?” Samantha questioned, leaning forward improperly. “What did the sheriff really want with you? What aren’t you telling me?”

“I’m not worried about the sheriff,” Barnaby replied dismissively. “I can handle a snake like him easily… it’s just that, well, there are men living in the forest. I encountered them on my way home. They live in the trees like savages… They even dared to charge me a tax to cross my own bridge!”

“You paid to cross the bridge?” Samantha wrung her hands in frustration. “Your grandfather built that bridge!”

“I didn’t pay,” Barnaby replied with a laugh. “I returned with my honor intact, thank you…”

“The men in the forest,” Samantha spoke suddenly, her voice low. “You should be more careful, dear. Who knows what could’ve happened.”

“They aren’t anything I can’t handle.” Barnaby assured her. “I’m not a child anymore.”

“Of course not,” Samantha agreed hesitantly. “You came home a distinguished soldier.” Samantha placed her wizened hand on Barnaby’s shoulder and squeezed gently. “Now eat your stroganoff and get some sleep.”

“I thought we agreed I’m not a child!” Barnaby retorted with a laugh.

“You are not a child.” Samantha agreed with a kind smile. “But that doesn’t mean you don’t need taken care of.”

* * *

 

_She was standing in a field of bright yellow flowers, dressed in pale green. Her sandy blonde hair was down, blowing freely in the breeze. She smiled and her entire face lit up like the sun. Her hand extended toward Barnaby and he smiled, laughing out loud. The noise was foreign to his ears, as if the voice belonged to someone else, to a child._

_A man stood behind her, tall and broad and strong. His dark hair was combed neatly and his large eyes were kind and inviting. He gestured Barnaby closer, the smile on his face matching the woman’s next to him._

_They smiled so uniformly, so pleasantly. Barnaby felt an urgency, he had to grab her hand. He rushed forward, the blades of grass and long stemmed flowers scratching against his arms and face. He felt the stinging but he ignored it, rushing forward as swiftly as he could._

_“Mom! Dad!” He called out to them, his voice small and frightened and unbelievably heartbroken. “Mom!” He ran with his hand in front of himself. “Dad!” He began to silently plead with God._ Please, God, just let me reach them. Let me grab that hand. Let me get there in time. Please, God, I’ll do anything. I’ll be good… just one more time. Just this once…

_And then the entire field was on fire. His parents in front of him stood motionless, empty smiles plastered onto their melting faces. Barnaby screamed, clutching his hair in his hands. “Nooo!” He screamed, and this time his voice was his own. “No! Please!” He sank into the grass._

When he woke, he was sweating profusely, his nightclothes and bedsheets sticking to his skin. He tried to swallow, but his mouth was so dry, his tongue stiff and painful. He rolled onto his side, reaching for the carafe of water beside his bed. He blinked slowly, unsurely and then sat up, disturbing the table beside him. The carafe fell to the floor with a clatter, shards of glass spraying across the floor.

Thick black smoke billowed under the space of the door, filling his room. He climbed out of bed, pulling on his trousers immediately. His bare feet pounded against the wooden floor as he approached the door. He reached out anxiously, his hand wrapping around the iron knob. He yelped, cursing loudly and began to shake his hand, raising it to his lips and blowing cool air onto the blistering flesh. Barnaby pulled his nightshirt over his face, coughing violently as he backed away from the door.

The temperature in the room was broiling and it made Barnaby’s head swim uncomfortably. He shook his head and breathed deeply into his shirt. _The house is on fire_ , he thought, trying to maintain composure. _I just need to climb out the window_.

He wrapped his hand in the hem of his shirt, twisting the thin fabric around his fist. With one rapid strike, he punched a hole in the glass, causing the entire plate to shatter outward. _It’s not too far down, just jump._

Barnaby closed his eyes, thrusting his head out the window for fresh air. He pulled himself up awkwardly, sitting in the frame of the window before swinging his legs over. Without a second’s hesitation, he leapt from the burning house. He landed well enough, the earth was soft from a light rain, but the house was at the top of the hill and as such he was tossed downhill, rolling head over foot down the grassy knoll.

He came to a stop in the small ditch by his stables and for a long moment he just laid there on the damp ground. He could hear several men yelling and taunting over the hiss of the fire. He had intended to climb to his feet and throw himself upon the arsonists, but he found he was unable to breathe. His chest heaved up and down painfully, his throat burning as if he had swallowed glass. He wanted to fight; he wanted to defend his life and property. He took another shallow, agonizing breath as dark shapes swarmed his eyes. And then everything went black.

Barnaby covered his eyes with his arm, the warm sun beating down on his fair skin brutally. He sat up slowly, bits of straw and clumps of grass falling from his wet hair. He looked around, his memory lagging until he saw the house. He was on his feet in an instant, running toward his home in desperation.

Barnaby bolted through the ruined garden, groaning as he passed the decimated stone statue, the noble woman’s head knocked completely off the body. He took the steps three at a time, tossing aside a block of wood that had been used to seal the door. 

 “Samantha?” Barnaby called out unsurely, his hand gripping the scorched stone. He sank down onto one knee, in what had been the foyer of his ancestral home, a terrible pain wrenching in his chest. Barnaby gasped for air loudly and jaggedly. “John? Edward?”

There was no answer. Barnaby crawled forward, his strength and courage draining from his body like a bloody wound. He lifted his hands and stared at his dirtied palms, blackened by the ash. “Samantha?” Barnaby repeated, his voice fragile and small. “Samantha?” Barnaby sank further down onto the ground, his back giving way in his desolation. “Please! Please answer me!”

The sun passed behind thick, gray clouds and Barnaby looked up as the darkness grew. It was an ugly sky, broken by a few slivers of roofing still in place. The clouds were heavy and foreboding. A pitiful, gut-wrenching sadness ripped through Barnaby and he curled into a tight ball as the rain began to fall. The water bounced off of the burnt tables and chairs. The wood steamed as the heat was released into the cold air. The black ash became sludge underneath Barnaby, coating every inch of every thing. Barnaby was left with nothing. Barnaby was left with no one. Barnaby would discover, hours later when he finally pulled himself to his feet, that he possessed only one thing, a desire for retribution.

* * *

 

Tiger paused, his toes spreading in his heavily worn boots. His amber eyes slowly turned, searching his peripheral vision. He stood silently for several seconds before shaking his head, chuckling softly. He continued through the forest, the dry leaves crunching noisily beneath his feet, until he reached a small watering hole.

Tiger kicked off his boots, peeling the stained, holey socks from his sweaty feet. He removed his shirt, tossing it to the ground without another thought. He stopped and listened before unfastening his pants, letting them fall to the forest floor and then stepping out of them. His undergarments were taken off in one fell swoop, removing his mask last, and then he was climbing up on the rocky ledge of the watering hole.

He tested the water with a single toe, it was freezing. Tiger shivered and swallowed heavily. “Well, shit, be a man, Kotetsu,” Tiger muttered under his breath. He closed his eyes and took a step forward, plunging into the water. He rocketed to the surface with a gasp, gooseflesh erupting all over his bare skin.

“Cold, cold, cold, cold, cold!” Tiger complained, scrubbing his underarms and chest rapidly, splashing water onto his neck.  His hands roamed all over his body, scratching and rubbing at the stubborn debris encrusted on his skin and under his nails. “So cold. So cold!”

Tiger dunked his head under the water and combed his fingers through his burgundy hair. He fought through the tangles, biting down on his lower lip in concentration. His body began to relax, eventually adjusting to the icy water. He gargled loudly, spitting it out in a fountain-like stream. He took another mouthful of water, his cheeks puffing out comically.

“You’re more like a monkey…”

Tiger sputtered, water spraying out in every direction as he turned to face the speaker. He waded in the water, looking up at Barnaby in surprise. The other man was leaning against a tree, a long bow resting against his side. He removed his spectacles, rubbing the hem of his tunic against the foggy glass.

“You…” Tiger let out a laugh, shaking his head. He brushed his hands through his hair, slicking the wet hair backward. He went to adjust his mask and froze, cursing under his breath. He covered his face belatedly with his splayed fingers. “Did you just call me a monkey?”

“I compared you to a monkey.” Barnaby admitted with a shrug. “They call you Tiger, hm? It’s a misnomer; you’re more like a little monkey.”

“A monkey?” Tiger whispered in disbelief. He narrowed his eyes at Barnaby and frowned.

“I was robbed by a monkey once,” Barnaby continued, ignoring Tiger’s indignation. “I went for a bath, much like you today, and the little bugger made off with six pence, a pocket watch and my helmet.”

“Monkey?” Tiger repeated again.

“The Holy Land has animals of every sort, exotic people, exotic foods…”

“Oh, and Lil’ Bunny came home without a wife?” Tiger teased with a wink.

“Old man, I don’t want any misunderstandings,” Barnaby suddenly exclaimed. “I’m here for information.”

“Huh?” Tiger retorted, his temper flaring up. He pulled himself up on the rocky ledge and stood, casting Barnaby dirty looks the entire time. Barnaby smiled smugly, watching Tiger’s movements intently until he suddenly turned away, his pale skin reddening. Tiger used his shirt to dry himself quickly, pulling his soiled clothes back on with a grimace. “Whaddaya want to know, Bunny?”

“The Sheriff. Who is he?” Barnaby spat the words, hatred bubbling over his tongue and out through his lips. “What has happened to Sternbild in the four years I’ve been gone?”

“Ah,” Tiger laughed bitterly. “That guy.” Tiger pulled his shirt over his muscled chest and bent over, retrieving his mask from the ground. He brushed the mask against his pants, his fingers fumbling with the strap. “He’s a real nasty guy.”

“He burned my house to the ground,” Barnaby said. “With three of my servants locked inside.” Barnaby clenched his hands into fists. “I need to know, who is he? What is his agenda?”

“I’m sorry,” Tiger exhaled heavily, reaching out to place a hand on Barnaby’s shoulder. He pulled back at the last moment, letting his hand fall back to his side. Tiger cleared his throat and rolled from the ball of his foot to his toes. “His name is Jake Martinez. He became sheriff three years ago, after good ol’ Peter White died, rather mysteriously I might add.” Tiger’s voice fell into a spirited whisper. “The sheriff has been lining the pockets of the clergy and the landowners.  He gets away with anything, and all at the cost of the everyday people.”

“The taxes you mentioned earlier,” Barnaby said, nodding his head in understanding. “He’s collecting bribe money.”

“Exactly,” Tiger’s amber eyes narrowed. “That sorta crap really pisses me off.”

“And what are you doing about it?” Barnaby asked, his green eyes searching Tiger’s face. “You and your band of forest dwellers?”

“Well, I,” Tiger began to stammer unsurely. “We… I, well, I’ve started collecting tolls, from the bridges you know. We buy food, clothes, medicine… We keep some for ourselves, but we also go into Sternbild, deliver the supplies to the church.”

“And this is your rebellion?” Barnaby asked, shaking his head. “You consider yourself a hero?”

“To starving children we are,” Tiger replied, so earnestly it caused Barnaby to take a step backward. “I really don’t care what other people think about me…”

“Don’t you just feel weak and insignificant?” Barnaby asked, more to himself than to Tiger.

“All the time.” Tiger admitted, placing his mask over his face and securing it.

“Why do you hide your identity?” Barnaby asked after a long stretch of silence. “Are you a criminal?”

“Well, I am now,” Tiger laughed nervously. “Tax evasion… extortion… assault on an officer… It’s really gone downhill here recently.” Tiger scratched his nose and sighed. “I hide my face because I don’t want people knowing who I am.”

“And why not?” Barnaby pressed.

“Because I have a family,” Tiger confessed, his eyes on the ground. “Not here, but on a farm on the south side of Sternbild.” Tiger cleared his throat. “I can’t have them getting caught up in this.”

“And I thought tigers were solitary creatures.” Barnaby mused with a smirk.

“We are.” Tiger said flatly.

Barnaby’s smile faltered and then disappeared completely. He cleared his throat and extended his hand to the older man somberly. “I’m Barnaby Brooks, Jr.” Barnaby took Tiger’s hand in his own and shook. “I’m interested in teaming up.”

“T-t-teaming up?” Tiger stammered in confusion. “W-w-what do you mean?”

“You said you’re a hero,” Barnaby explained, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I am going to stop the sheriff and whatever scheme he has cooked up.” Barnaby released Tiger’s hand and clenched his fists. “I can help the people as I do it. Kill two birds with one stone, so to speak.”

“The sheriff is strong.” Tiger exhaled heavily as he spoke. “No one has fought against him and lived.”

“ _I_ am strong.” Barnaby countered. “I can depend on myself.” Barnaby pressed his finger into Tiger’s chest in gesture. “You need to keep up, Old Man.”

“W-w-what? What? What?” Tiger sputtered, his eyes widening in insulted disbelief. “You punky kid… why I oughta…”

“I’ll return at twilight, be ready in this spot,” Barnaby instructed, turning away from Tiger.

“Bunny, wait!” Tiger called after him, running barefoot through the leaves. “How many men should I bring?”

“Just one.” Barnaby answered. “And my name is Barnaby.”

* * *

 

“Stupid, cocky, arrogant,” Tiger muttered as he walked through the forest. He shivered, pulling his hat lower down his head and wrapping his arms around his chest. His footsteps were heavy, the leaves crunching noisily underfoot. He kicked a large pile and watched the foliage scatter before continuing on toward the watering hole. “Who does he even think he is?”

A twig snapped behind him and the hair on his neck and arms rose. He spun around, freezing in place as a knife was thrust against his neck. “You make a lot of noise.” Barnaby growled lowly. “You should probably learn to breathe through your nose.”

“Heh,” Tiger smiled. “You probably think that your attitude bothers me, but I love children.” Tiger pressed his hand into Barnaby’s abdomen, knocking the larger man backward. The knife nicked his skin just below the jaw, spilling crimson down his neck and chest.

“You made me cut you.” Barnaby exclaimed, pushing his knife into his belt. He shook his head and crossed his arms. “I was just demonstrating that you should be quieter, henceforth…”

“And I was demonstrating how you shouldn’t pull out a weapon unless you damn well mean to use it.” Tiger ignored the blood streaming down his face and turned to face Barnaby. “And don’t ever try to teach me anything, kid. I’m a full grown man.”

“Fine, you’re a lost cause anyway,” Barnaby muttered, his round cheeks stained pink.  He began to jog through the forest, his hands trailing across the trunks of the trees. “We should get a move on. It’ll be dark soon.”

“Where are we going, Bunny?” Tiger asked, chasing after Barnaby on the uneven terrain. Barnaby ignored him, casting a warning sideway glance. After a few minutes, the two men approached a path in the forest. The worn path was often used as a road from the rural forest manors to the city.

“And now we wait.” Barnaby whispered, testing the strength of a low hanging branch. He climbed the tree, resting his back against the trunk and letting his legs fall freely on either side of the branch.

“What are we waiting for?” Tiger asked, narrowing his eyes and peering into the dark forest.  There was no need for Barnaby to answer, because as soon as the words escaped Tiger’s mouth there was a great, growing rumble coming up the path. Four flickering orange lights outlined a fine carriage and the two handsome horses pulling.

Barnaby dropped down from the tree, standing in the center of the path with a smile. “Ah, we’re setting up toll…” Tiger mused aloud. “Not sure how that’s so different from my plan… which you thought was silly. My plan was pretty much identical really… but of course, yours must be better somehow…”

“Be quiet and watch, Tiger.” Barnaby instructed, gesturing widely with his arms.

“Clear the way!” the driver shouted, nervousness and fear injected throughout his voice.  “Move!” There was shuffling inside the carriage and in the darkness Barnaby could just make out the face of a Baron peering out the window. “I demand you move this instant, serf!”

“I will move.” Barnaby agreed. “Just as soon as you empty your trunks.” Barnaby’s hand rested on his sword meaningfully and he smirked, nodding toward the carriage. “I’ll take all of it.” Barnaby nodded toward Tiger, “Open it up.” Tiger obeyed, his hands shaking as he opened the door to the carriage. His eyes widened as he spotted the tremendous amount of gold and precious stones inside. “Relieve our friends of their heavy load, Tiger.”

“There’s so much.” Tiger breathed.

“And it’s mine!” the Baron snapped, reaching out and slapping Tiger’s cheek sharply. Tiger took a step back in surprise, his hand reaching toward the red mark on his face. “Get your filthy hands away from my gold!”

“This is from the sheriff, is it not?” Barnaby asked, stepping forward.

“And so what if it is?” The Baron demanded.

“He bleeds the common people dry and lines your fat pockets with dirty money.” Barnaby was careful with his choice of words, gauging Tiger’s reaction. Tiger would not steal from anyone outright. There had to be infallible logic behind such an action. “The common people hunger and you feel nothing but greed!” Barnaby swallowed the rising guilt; he wasn’t lying per se, though he was manipulating the older man. Barnaby had already accepted that people might get hurt while he fought this vendetta against the sheriff.  Tiger took a step backward and Barnaby cursed internally.  He wasn’t going for it.

“Why do I care? These filthy peasants should do their share! I pay taxes too! I work hard for my money. They should learn some discipline as well and perhaps stop having so many children if they can’t feed them!”

Something snapped inside Tiger at the baron’s words. His hand crushed the handle of the carriage door, the entire thing ripping off its hinges. The baron and his wife screamed as Tiger climbed into the cabin. He lifted the heavy chest of bribe money and hoisted it to his shoulder. He plucked the man’s pocket watch from his lapel and snatched the handbag from beside the wife. He backed out of the carriage and tipped his hat. “The people thank you for your generous donation, Baron and Baroness.”

“Good evening,” Barnaby said with a wide grin. “Please extend our thanks to the Sheriff of Sternbild.”

The carriage rolled away quickly, the driver whipping the horses and the air. The baroness’s wails could be heard until they crossed the river. Barnaby nodded his head wordlessly, turning to look at Tiger. Tiger looked like he was about to be sick. His olive complexion was sickly chartreuse. “Are you alright, Tiger?”

“I…” Tiger was at a loss for words. He held the chest against his stomach, staring down at the contents with glazed over eyes.

“Hey,” Barnaby said softly, his pale hand brushing against Tiger’s shoulder. “We’re not keeping this.”

“We’re not?” Tiger asked, looking up into Barnaby’s green eyes.

“No.” Barnaby assured him. He squeezed Tiger’s arm gently. “Your idea… it wasn’t so bad,” Barnaby admitted. “But this time, it’s going to be on a lot bigger scale.” Barnaby couldn’t help but return Tiger’s lopsided smile. “We are going to help a lot of people.”

* * *

 

“So handsome!” Fire Emblem, snatched the poster in their hands, inspecting every inch of the illustration. They wriggled back in forth in excitement. “I’ve never seen such a wonderful Wanted Poster!”

“Yeah, yeah.” Tiger grumbled, letting Barnaby’s poster slide from his hand.

“Don’t get jealous, Tiger.” Fire Emblem purred. “I’ll still let you lay next to me tonight.”

Tiger laughed, knocking shoulders with Fire Emblem, “Not tonight, I’ll get a stiff neck.”

Barnaby’s eyes widened in shock, looking from Tiger to Fire Emblem. It had been four months since he had teamed up with Tiger and the operation had expanded exponentially, involving nearly everyone from Tiger’s forest camp. Even though Barnaby was now living among them, he felt like they were a completely different species.

“Don’t look so confused, Handsome.” Fire Emblem growled playfully, their broad yet slender body pressing against Tiger’s side. “Sometimes when adults love eachother -”

“Shut up!” Blue Rose groaned, smacking her pale hand against Fire Emblem’s back. “You two are going to scare him off!”

“You two?” Tiger groaned. “What have I done?”

“Here,” Fire Emblem said, pursing their lips. “Look at this old man’s poster. He looks rather distinguished… doesn’t he?”

Blue Rose took the poster from Fire Emblem, her brown eyes searching the paper as if studying it. “Barnaby’s worth more.”

“Obviously, the sheriff knows quality when he sees it!” Fire Emblem gushed, reaching a dark hand out and squeezing Barnaby’s shoulder.

“You guys are a hundred times more annoying when he’s around.” Tiger complained, stepping out from under Fire Emblem’s arm. “I’m going for a walk.”

Tiger walked through the forest, the rowdy voices of his friends following him. He wasn’t jealous, truthfully, but whenever his friends interacted with Barnaby something inside of him felt small and insecure. He didn’t need to be the center of attention, he didn’t need fame or glory, but deep down he just wanted someone to need him, to want to be with him, around him, more than anyone else.

“Oh, Tomoe,” Tiger breathed, rubbing his cheeks with his hands. “I’m selfish.” His mind was whirring, a million thoughts a second. He walked until he reached the watering hole. It was small, and the water was cold. The river was closer to camp. It made the watering hole the perfect place.

He stripped slowly, lazily tossing his clothes into the water. He removed his mask, placing it on the rocks. He didn’t bother testing the temperature, it was always icy cold. He slid in, his teeth chattering as he sank into the water until his nose upward was the only thing above the water. He blew bubbles with his mouth, letting the water’s buoyancy sway him back and forth.

He dipped his pants in the water, wringing them before throwing the sopping cloth on a rock to dry. He did the same with his shirt and undergarments. Feeling accomplished he pulled himself out of the water, lying on his back on the cold stone.

His skin prickled, the soft breeze rolling the droplets of water down his body, pooling underneath him. He folded his arms under his head and closed his eyes, the wind ruffling his cordovan hair. Within a few minutes he had fallen asleep.

Barnaby’s palm connected with his own cheek, a heavy, uncomfortable flush settling into his cheeks. He cursed under his breath, his hands on the top of his thighs as he doubled over. He paced back and forth, a strange sensation bubbling from his stomach up into his throat. He thought he might actually be sick. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, calming his nerves.

His green eyes opened and he took a step forward, then another, before dropping to his knees. He scooted forward, on hand and knee, pausing with his head just inches from Tiger’s. He swallowed heavily, his eyes roaming Tiger’s nakedness. Tiger’s body was somehow very different from his own.

 The skin was darker, more course, with patches of even darker skin around his neck, elbows and knees. His muscles were lean, less defined, and his waist was more slender. His hips were more pronounced, his legs were thin, his feet boney. But every inch of him was beautiful.

_I was just checking on him_ , Barnaby insisted, trying to convince himself. _He didn’t come back because he fell asleep. He’s fine. You can see that. You can go now._   But Barnaby found that his shaking arms wouldn’t push him backward. He was frozen to the spot, a peculiar sensation tickling his belly.

He combed his fingers through Tiger’s drying hair, arranging it neatly. He pulled a strand to his lips, inhaling the musky scent.  “Tiger.” Barnaby spoke softly, his hand stroking the older man’s cheek. He placed his thumb gently against Tiger’s groomed facial hair, the bottom of his thumb pressing against Tiger’s bottom lip.  Tiger didn’t wake.

Barnaby took a deep breath, placing his hands on either side of Tiger’s head. He leaned down, his lips pressing to Tiger’s forehead, then his nose, and finally, his lips touched Tiger’s lips.

Tiger stirred, his amber eyes opening. He looked up at Barnaby, his wide eyes blinking innocently. He smiled up at Barnaby’s upside down form. “Hey, Bunny, why are you so close?” He grunted in complaint as Barnaby flicked his nose. “Ouch!”

“That couldn’t have hurt.” Barnaby insisted, sitting back on his knees before climbing to his feet. “You have been gone a while. It’s almost dark. The others were worried so I said I would look for you.”

Tiger’s hand floated to his lips confusedly, his thumb wicking away a bit of moisture. He watched Barnaby out of the corner of his eyes, dressing automatically. “That’s unusal…” Tiger thought aloud.

“What is?” Barnaby asked.

“I had the strangest dream.” Tiger said, his voice low and thick.

“Oh?”

“Yeah.”

“Well,” Barnaby’s snapped tensely. “What was it about?”

“It was about you, Lil Bunny.”

Barnaby was speechless for a moment, a deep blush spreading across his nose and cheeks toward his ears. He pushed a strand of blonde hair behind his ear and cleared his throat. “What about me?”

“It’s embarrassing.” Tiger admitted with a throaty laugh.

“Oh?”

“Yeah.”

Well,” Barnaby said simply, folding his arms. “We should be getting back.”

They walked several yards apart, in complete silence, until they reached the camp where Barnaby stalked off toward his tent and Tiger went to find Rock Bison. The other man was drinking ale and sponging the last bit of stew from the bottom of his bowl with a piece of stale bread. He smiled when he saw Tiger and gestured for him to take a seat beside him. “What’s up, Wild Tiger?”

“Nothing.” Tiger said with a smile.

“Don’t lie.” Rock Bison demanded, slapping his large hand against Tiger’s back.

“Troubling dreams.” Tiger blurted with a heavy sigh. “I’m so pathetic at times.”

“What about?” Rock Bison questioned, his reddish brown brows knitting together in concern.

“A kiss.” Tiger explained with exasperation. “A stupid kiss! From a person who I shouldn’t ever be dreaming of…” Tiger groaned, his head sinking into his hands. “Of all people!”

“Who?” Rock Bison asked, smirking with curiosity.

“I’ll die before I tell.” Tiger stated matter-of-factly.

“Okay, fine. So what happened? Was it a sex dream? Or…?” Rock Bison trailed off expectantly.

“No, not really. I was just in this garden, everything was upside down and backward, like a mirror or something, I don’t know…” Tiger began to explain, his brows furrowed. “And then this person just kisses me out of the blue…”

“Did you want them to?” Tiger and Rock Bison both looked up in surprise as a fairly handsome blonde man, no older than eighteen, spoke up. He smiled apologetically and squeezed beside them on an empty stool.

“Hey, Origami Eavesdropper,” Rock Bison derided.

“The kiss? Was it asked for?” Origami Cyclone asked, flashing Rock Bison an innocent smile.

“Uh,” Tiger looked up, his tongue clicking thoughtfully. “No, it wasn’t.”

“Oh,” Origami Cyclone said, his voice full of disappointment. “That’s not good.”

“What do you mean?” Tiger asked, leaning forward.

“Being kissed without permission in a dream,” Origami Cyclone explained, his violet eyes wide and unblinking. “It means that person is false and untrue…”

“Oh, I thought it was like a death omen or something,” Rock Bison sighed in relief.

“God, me too!” Tiger agreed with a laugh. “Whew!” Tiger stood, slapping his hand on Origami Cyclone’s back. “Thanks for the info, Origami.” He bowed his head and flashed a crooked smile. “Night, gentlemen.”

“Aren’t you helping tonight?” Rock Bison called over his shoulder. “The Duchess Norfolk is having a party tonight, the roads should be chock full of those rich assholes!”

“Nah, Bunny said there was something else we needed to do.” Tiger explained, walking backward as he spoke. Rock Bison nodded and Tiger turned, pushing his hands in his pockets. “Be careful tonight, Antonio.”

“Sure, you too.”

* * *

 

Tiger grabbed a bowl of stew, shoveling it into his mouth with some stale toast. He ate quickly, smiling in thanks before he had even finished swallowing. He handed the bowl to the portly woman who worked in the kitchen and she smiled in return. He jogged toward Barnaby’s tent, rasping his hand against the stake outside. “Hello? You ready to go?”

“You’re late, Old Man.” Barnaby chastised. He stood against a tree, his face only partly illuminated by the nearest torch. He turned without another word, without waiting to see if Tiger followed.

“I was eating!” Tiger exclaimed, walking quickly to match Barnaby’s pace. “You said to meet you at sundown!”

“And it’s past sundown.” Barnaby replied, gesturing with his hands in irritation.

“Ya know, people think you’re so cool.” Tiger muttered. “They don’t know the real you.” Barnaby narrowed his eyes, opening his mouth to protest, but then thought better of it, shook his head and continued walking. Tiger caught up with Barnaby, placing his hand on his shoulder and spinning him around to face him. “You’re sulky and childish.”

“Are you trying to start a fight?” Barnaby asked, arching a pale brow.

“No.” Tiger exhaled, rubbing his face with his hands. “No, I’m not… I just…”

“Then let’s go.” Barnaby said.

“Sure. Yeah. Let’s go.” Tiger agreed.

They walked in silence for several miles. Finally, they came to a decrepit looking stable. Barnaby hopped the fence with ease, grabbing a bit of hay and tossing it into the stalls. Three magnificent chestnut horses burst into view, their large white muzzles brushing against Barnaby.

Barnaby replaced the water in the trough and readied the tack as the horses ate. Tiger stood there unsurely, watching Barnaby as he worked. He looked down in surprise as Barnaby placed the reins in his hand. “You’re riding this one.”

“We’re stealing this horse?” Barnaby asked, looking up at the beautiful gelding in surprise. He brushed his hand over the horse’s neck, combing through the long, dark mane absently.

“We’re not stealing.” Barnaby said simply.

“We’re just borrowing?” Tiger finished sarcastically.

“No, we’re not stealing because they’re mine.” Barnaby corrected, nodding as he stepped into the saddle, pulling himself onto the back of the horse.

“They’re your horses?” Tiger asked, climbing awkwardly into the saddle.

“You’re riding Samson.”

“Hello, Samson,” Tiger whispered, petting the horse’s neck affectionately. “My name is Wild Tiger.”  Tiger smiled at the animal and then looked over at Barnaby. “Just so you know, Bunny, I’ve never ridden a horse before.”

“Oh, you’ll be fine.” Barnaby promised, his green eyes glittering. He smirked and smacked Samson on the rear. “Hyaaa!”

“Wahhhhh!” Tiger yelped, dropping low against the back of Samson. He gripped the reins, the rough leather rubbing against his palms. The animal cantered over the uneven ground, nearly bouncing Tiger from the saddle. “Bunny! Bunny! Bunny!” Tiger turned slightly, his frightened expression causing Barnaby to erupt in laughter. “Help me, Bunny!”

“Pull the reins back.” Barnaby laughed, trotting behind. He clicked his tongue, his boots gently nudging against his own horse. He caught up with Tiger and Samson, grabbing the reins and pulling back. “Whoa, Samson!”

“Oh, god!” Tiger groaned as he slowly sat back up in the saddle. “I thought we were friends…I trusted you…”

“It’s not Samson’s fault.” Barnaby said with a shrug.

“I was talking to you!” Tiger snapped, grabbing the reins and attempting to steer the horse away from Barnaby.

“Okay, I’m sorry.” Barnaby said with a laugh. “Follow me, we’re wasting time.”

“We? We are wasting time?” Tiger grumbled under his breath. He sat back and sighed in relief as Samson obediently began to fall in line behind Barnaby and his horse. They rode for another fifteen minutes before pulling off the road.

“Okay, now what?” Tiger asked.

Barnaby placed his fingers against Tiger’s lips, silencing him. Tiger narrowed his eyes in confusion but Barnaby simply shook his head. He pulled out some clothing from the saddle bag and tossed it to Tiger. “Get dressed.”

“Huh?” Tiger unfolded the cloth, examining the fine tailored clothes in surprise. He removed his worn cotton garbs and slid into the luxurious silk and velvet. He held a strip of satin, confused as to where it went.

“That’s a cummerbund.” Barnaby explained. “It goes around your waist… no, like… let me do it.” Barnaby took the sash from Tiger, fitting it around his waist, just above the hips. He took a step back, inspecting Tiger critically. “You’ll pass.”

“I’ll pass? For what?” Tiger asked watching Barnaby dress quickly.

“A gentleman.” Barnaby replied as he secured his own mask in place.

“And why do I need to pass for a gentleman?”

“Because we are going to Duchess Norfolk’s party.”

“What?!?” Tiger screeched. He leaned to the side, peering around the edge of the forest. He shook his head, amazed at the enormous manor that was just yards from them.

“The sheriff is attending that party.” Barnaby explained.

“So we’re gonna go in there and kick his ass.” Tiger realized, smiling widely.

“No, no, absolutely not.” Barnaby snapped.  “There is a plan. Pay attention, Old Man. We are information gathering. No fighting. No stealing.  Behave yourself!”

“I wish you would discuss the plans in advance.” Tiger admonished.

“You never listen anyway!” Barnaby accused.

“Excuse me! You there!” a steward called out, a lantern bathing the man in orange light. “Are you here for the party?”

“Yes, Sir.” Barnaby said, stepping out from the wood with a polite smile. “I am Master Robin Hood of Locksley. This,” he gestured to Tiger as he spoke. “Is Sir John Little.”

“And what are you doing in there?” the steward asked, pointing to the wood with distaste.

“Oh, uh,” Tiger stammered unsurely.

“Yes?” the steward pressed.

“I was adjusting his codpiece,” Barnaby said without batting an eye. He crossed the lawn, passed the steward and paused. “Are you coming, John?”

“Ah, of course, _Robin_ ,” Tiger growled, walking past the steward quickly. They walked up the stairs together, the steward following several yards behind. Tiger leaned in, whispering into Barnaby’s ear, “What’s a codpiece?”

“Never mind, it doesn’t matter.” Barnaby said with a smile.

“I want to know though…”

“I said it doesn’t matter…”

“If it doesn’t matter, just tell me!” Tiger proposed impatiently.

“Shhh!” Barnaby hissed. “Act like a gentleman. Straighten up, stop whispering, no fidgeting.”

“You really piss me off,” Tiger spat through gritted teeth.

“This way, gentlemen,” the steward instructed, gesturing them through a busy kitchen.

Tiger’s stomach grumbled painfully, the wondrous scent of food filling his nostrils. His hand brushed against the counter, nimbly plucking a steamed prawn from a serving tray. He popped the prawn in his mouth, pushing it to the side as the steward turned around. “Enjoy yourselves, Sirs.”

“Thank you,” Barnaby said with a nod. Tiger simply smiled, the food plumping out his cheeks.

The door opened and Tiger stepped into a different world. The well-lit room was spacious, with gold and blue accents that sparkled like jewels. The ceilings were high, the kind of ceiling that Tomoe, Tiger’s wife, would call a cobweb ceiling. He narrowed his eyes, but this particular cobweb ceiling looked impeccably clean. The room was warmed by two separate fireplaces, the chill from the open garden doors nothing more than a pleasant breeze.

It was like the people were from another world. They were magnificently dressed and handsomely groomed. It was an intoxicating masquerade. Many danced, others stood by the food tables as if staking claim, and even a few appeared to have passed out on the chaise lounges beside the fire. They drank in excess, wasted food and laughed too loudly to be considered natural.

Someone bumped into Tiger, knocking him out of his reverie. He stumbled forward, knocking into a solid form. He looked up, swallowing loudly as his gaze met a pair of intimidating olive eyes.  “Excuse me,” Tiger apologized, straightening up slowly.

“Are you alright, Judge Petrov?” A partygoer asked, glaring at Tiger with distaste.

“Of course, it’s quite alright.” The Judge assured the partygoer and Tiger, watching the latter with intense interest. “I know the face, but I can’t quite place it…” The Judge tucked a strand of his gray hair behind his ear and then extended a frail arm in greeting. “My name is Yuri Petrov, have we met before?”

“Ah, nice to meet you,” Tiger gushed, shaking the Judge’s hand nervously. “We’ve never met, I’m from out of town…” Tiger laughed fretfully. “My name is Little John, err, I mean John Little.”

Yuri Petrov’s eyes narrowed in recognition and Tiger knew that he had been identified. But then, in an instant, his features returned to normal and he smiled sadly, taking a sip from his champagne flute. “Would you like to join us, Mr. Little? We were just discussing Sternbild’s disturbing rise in crime.”

“Ah, well,” Tiger looked around, searching the crowded room for Barnaby. He sighed, accepting defeat before looking up with a smile. “Sure…”

Barnaby shook his head. Only Tiger could manage to bump into someone as high profile as Judge Yuri Petrov within a minute out of the gate. He stood against the wall, popping grapes into his mouth, until he decided that Tiger was momentarily safe enough for him to snoop around.

Barnaby slinked upstairs, hoping to improve his vantage point. Once upstairs, he nodded in greeting to everyone he passed. Acting naturally was the easiest way to fool others. He took a seat in an overstuffed armchair, snatching a flute of champagne from a passing tray.

It didn’t take long to discover that the sheriff wasn’t there. Barnaby pushed the disappointment to the back of his mind. The sheriff would arrive late, but he would be there. He took mental notes of the attendees, and then growing rather bored of watching the frivolities, he found himself watching Tiger.

Tiger stood with the Judge and a small circle of friends. He spoke animatedly, his thin body leaning this way and that as his arms gestured along with his words. Barnaby could tell he was being humorous by the women covering their mouths as they laughed. One woman reached out, her delicate hand brushing against Tiger’s forearm. She slapped her hand against his arm, teasingly. Barnaby cleared his throat and looked away. His mind was full of confusing and conflicting thoughts.

There was only one thing that he could focus on, only one thing that made sense. And that very thing walked through the front doors nearly bringing the entire room into silence. Even the music became hushed and conservative.

The sheriff raised his hand, smiling from ear to ear. He tousled his messy brown hair and sighed. “Good evening, sorry I’m late, Duchess. I took an unanticipated detour through the forest.” The sheriff took the champagne that was offered to him and downed it in an instant. “Seems our thieving little forest bandits were to set up a nasty operation tonight,” a collective gasp filled the room. “Don’t worry good people. Your brave sheriff has already eliminated the threat.”


	2. Part II

“Don’t worry good people. Your brave sheriff has already eliminated the threat.”

Barnaby’s skin prickled and he turned to look where Tiger was standing. To his horror, glass shattered as Tiger clenched the flute in his hand. There was a sickening crunching sound and suddenly the room went completely still and quiet.

Tiger threw the shards of glass to the floor, lifting his bloodied hand to point at the sheriff. “What did you say?” Tiger asked seriously, his voice low and commanding. “What did you do?”

The sheriff sat down, his blue eyes watching Tiger intently. A smile tugged at his lips and he gestured for another flute of champagne. “I took care of the infestation.” The sheriff looked around the room, and, as his eyes flashed toward the balcony, Barnaby realized he was searching for him. “I’m so glad you could make it to the party, Barnaby Brooks, Jr.”

The partygoers began to whisper, and many people turned around to peer up at him. Barnaby’s heart skipped a beat and he froze. His mind raced, should he run? Could he get away? Was it cowardly to run?

“Those people are my friends.” Tiger said suddenly, his eyes and the warm, tan skin of his face seemingly illuminated by a blue light.

“Were your friends, Lil Tiger, _Were_.” The sheriff corrected.

“Don’t be a fool,” Yuri growled, his pale, thin arm snaking toward Tiger. “Your justice is still weak, it’s not your time to die.”

Tiger looked at the judge in confusion, his entire body humming with explosive energy. He looked up at the balcony, searching Barnaby’s horrified expression. And then he settled on the sheriff and he took a threatening step forward. The sheriff smiled and laughed, his voice grating and nasal to Barnaby’s ears. “Well, guards, kill them…” the sheriff gestured to his men, ordering them forward. “I am sorry, Duchess, about your house…”

“Tiger, stop! We need to get out of here!” Barnaby ordered, sliding down the banister of the staircase and leaping off near the bottom. One of the sheriff’s men drew his sword, brandishing it at Barnaby with deadly accuracy. Barnaby groaned and unsheathed his own sword. “Hurry!”

Tiger didn’t answer Barnaby. Instead his chest ached and his stomach clenched as he approached the sheriff. He pushed an attacker to the side, punching another in the throat without even turning to face him. He lifted an accusatory finger at the sheriff. “What did you do?”

“You really don’t want me to get up…” The sheriff warned. “You should just let me enjoy the party.”

Tiger was kicked from behind and he turned, delivering a perfect uppercut to his attacker’s jaw. The man was knocked backward with a groan and didn’t move once he hit the floor.

“Screw the party!” Tiger shouted, he stalked forward, his fist wrapping around the collar of the sheriff’s shirt. He clenched his fist and threw a punch, but it didn’t land. He pulled back in surprise and belatedly realized that the sheriff had drawn his sword. The sheriff sliced across Tiger’s belly, shredding his clothes and spilling blood down his groin and legs.

“I never get to enjoy parties.” The sheriff complained, swinging his sword back and forth. “Some pathetic weakling always decides to challenge me.”

Tiger launched forward, tackling thin air. He righted himself and spun in a circle. He excelled at hand to hand combat; he had never had a problem landing a blow before. He shook his head in confusion, muttering under his breath.

Barnaby grunted loudly as he was pinned against the wall. Tiger grabbed a tray from a waiter’s hand, dumping the flutes of champagne all over the floor. He spun in a circle, launching the tray across the room and striking the men swarming around Barnaby. Barnaby looked over at him and shook his head, “Let’s go! Now!”

Tiger wrenched a thick, wooden leg from the buffet table, ignoring Barnaby. He swung it like a club, blocking the sheriff’s sword as it sliced downward toward his neck. He smiled and the sheriff smiled and then an intense pain erupted from Tiger’s stomach. He looked down at the sheriff’s other hand wrapped around the handle of a small dagger. Tiger ripped the dagger from his stomach, releasing a pint of scarlet blood with it.

Tiger took a step backward and the makeshift club in his hand fell to his side. He staggered for a moment before shaking his head, lifting the club to strike. He cried out as the sheriff’s sword slowly pierced through his shoulder, forcing him to drop his weapon.  He backed away and stumbled, slipping in his own blood that pooled beneath their feet.

Tiger was caught before he hit the ground. He looked up at Barnaby, his vision going in and out of focus. Barnaby lifted him in his arms and began to run. Tiger was confused by the glowing blue light that seemed to envelope Barnaby’s body. “Take me back. I wasn’t done, Bunny.”

“You are done, Old Man.” Barnaby snapped, his breathing uneven and heavy. “You are done!”

“All of my friends…” Tiger grunted, grimacing in pain. “Everyone…”

“You have no idea if he was even telling the truth!” Barnaby explained, untying his horse, Padraig’s, reins from a tree branch. He hoisted Tiger into Samson’s saddle and quickly untied the reins. “Hold on, Tiger. Hold on to that damn horse and don’t fall off.”

Tiger nodded, grabbing fistfuls of Samson’s mane. He pressed his body against the saddle, letting his arms drape around the creatures neck.

Barnaby climbed into his saddle, holding onto Samson’s reins. He nudged Padraig gently, and then again, until the horses were galloping down the forest path. They were being pursued, but Barnaby was nearly certain that the sheriff was not among the men chasing them. He spurred the horses onward, too anxious to spare a glance at Tiger.

There was something blocking the road up ahead and Padraig suddenly reared up in terror. The abrupt stop upset Samson and Tiger was thrown off the back of the horse. Samson and Padraig’s hooves danced nervously in place until Samson took off, the leather reins slicing open Barnaby’s hand. “Shit!” Barnaby cursed, holding his injured palm against his chest. “Shit!”

He dismounted, holding firmly onto Padraig’s bridle. He turned and walked back to where Tiger lay on the ground. “Are you alright, Tiger?”

“What happened?” Tiger groaned, rolling onto his side with great effort.

“The horses got spooked…” Barnaby answered. He knelt down and pulled Tiger into his arms, lifting him from the dirt and into Padraig’s saddle.

“By what?” Tiger asked, pressing his hand against the free flowing wound on his abdomen.

Barnaby didn’t answer. He walked slowly ahead, leading Padraig from the ground. By the time he realized what it was, Tiger had already seen them. Tiger moaned miserably, scrambling out of the saddle. He rushed forward, his bloodied hands cradling the feet above his head. Barnaby was silent, taking a step away as Tiger began to cry out. Barnaby took off his restrictive jacket and climbed the tree. He leaned across the branch carefully, severing the ropes and cautiously lowering the small bodies to the ground.

Barnaby wiped the sweat from his brow and then quickly climbed back down the tree.

Tiger was kneeling on the ground, his hand brushing against the bruised flesh of the child’s neck. He wiped the dried blood from the corner of the boy’s mouth and cleaned up his nose bleed. Barnaby recognized the three children from camp, but he couldn’t name them.

“We shouldn’t have run away.” Tiger murmured, closing the boy’s eyes.

“We would’ve been killed.” Barnaby argued.

“Then we should have died!” Tiger snapped. “It would be better than this!” Tiger took a shaky breath, his complexion deathly pale. “Do you think Rock Bison would have allowed this? Fire Emblem? Blue Rose? Any adult for that matter? No! They would all die before they’d let children be taken! So where are they?”

“Tiger, we need to get back on the horse.” Barnaby warned. “They weren’t far behind…” Barnaby reached out to place a hand on Tiger’s shoulder. “And I lost Samson.”

Tiger slapped away Barnaby’s hand. “I’m not leaving them.” Tiger swallowed weakly, his hand falling to his side. “They need to be buried properly.”

“We don’t have time, Tiger.” Barnaby said, his stomach churning with anxiety and pity.

“Leave me.” Tiger instructed. “Just go.”

“I’m sorry.” Barnaby whispered, nodding his head as if steeling himself.

“It’s okay, jus-” Tiger’s words were cut short as Barnaby’s fist connected with his jaw. Tiger’s eyes rolled backward in his head and his body slackened against Barnaby. Barnaby held Tiger against his chest tightly before placing him across the saddle. He pulled himself onto Padraig’s back, rearranging Tiger in the saddle in front of him.

“Hyaaa!” Barnaby instructed, smacking his palm against Padraig’s rear. But Barnaby couldn’t outrun the pursuers, not with Padraig carrying both him and Tiger. He left the path, slowing Padraig to a walk. He rode through the dense forest, the tree branches scratching and tearing at his clothes. He switched direction, taking the indirect route back to the campsite.

It was a risky move. He could have been surrounded in the forest and killed. Tiger could have bled to death before reaching camp. He could have gotten lost. But at last, by some miracle, Barnaby had reached camp. He dismounted, walking Padraig through the thick fog. The stench in the air was foul and Barnaby was rather familiar with it. He covered his mouth and nose with his bloodied hand, doing his best to block out the smell of burning flesh and hair.

“Hello?” Barnaby called out. “Anyone there?” Barnaby knocked his boot against a badly burned form on the ground. It didn’t move and Barnaby simply walked past. “Hello! It’s Barnaby!”

“Bar-” a voice called out weakly.

Barnaby released Padraig’s reins, rushing over to the source of the voice. He waved his hand in front of his face, clearing smoke from his line of vision. “Blue Rose?” He took another step forward, his green eyes widening in horror.

Blue Rose had been stripped down, her body pinned grotesquely to a crucifix. She struggled to breathe. Barnaby stood motionless for a second, unable to process the situation. He was done seeing these things. The crusades were over. The death was supposed to be over. The horror was supposed to have an end.

“Barnaby…” she moaned in agony.

Barnaby snapped back to reality, “I’ll get you down.” Barnaby moved slowly, methodically. He knew too well the horrors a person was subjected to before a crucifixion and he was afraid. “I’ll get you down.”

“They…” Blue Rose spoke with great effort. “arrest…ed them…”

“Who? The sheriff’s men arrested who?” Barnaby asked, cutting a strip of rope off the cross.

“Pub…lic… exe…cution…”

“Okay,” Barnaby whispered, brushing his hand over her head soothingly. “Now, this might hurt a bit, but it’s going to get worse before it gets better…”

“I was…” Blue Rose whimpered, her eyes closed. “Left… as a…, as a… message…” Blue Rose’s screams pierced the night air. It was sickening. Barnaby lifted her from the cross and laid her gently on the ground. He draped his shirt over the top of her, her sobs shaking her slender body.

He comforted her gently as he tended to her wounds. He wasn’t a doctor but he had treated enough front line injuries to be considered capable. Blue Rose finally opened her eyes and when she spoke Barnaby’s heart sank into the pit of his stomach. “Tiger…”

* * *

 

Barnaby was startled awake by a loud, raspy cry. He bolted upright, his eyes peering around the dark tent blindly. Blue Rose groaned in her sleep on the other side of him. He reached his hand out, his fingers searching for the warmth of Tiger’s body. “Tiger?”

“I’m awake.” Tiger exhaled shakily. He sat up, examining the fresh, pink skin forming over his healing wounds. He swallowed noisily, pressing his palm against the sensitive skin.

“How are you feeling?” Barnaby asked unsurely.

“Like shit.”

“Yeah,” Barnaby bit down on his lip, pushing his glasses onto his face. He looked over at Tiger in the darkness. The older man looked back silently, his hands falling into his lap. “Your body it…”

“Yeah?” Tiger breathed.

“It healed itself…” Barnaby narrowed his eyes, focusing on Tiger. “Your wounds, they just started closing on their own…” Barnaby’s hands fidgeted in his lap. “Do you know why?”

Tiger sat quietly for a long moment, his hands in his lap and his feet crossed underneath him. He blinked slowly, his amber eyes staring ahead sightlessly. “It’s just always been that way…”

“You don’t need to hide it.” Barnaby said. “I think we’re the same. You realized it before, didn’t you? When we fought on the bridge… I’ve never fought anyone like you.”

“Be careful,” Tiger whispered. “This sort of talk gets you a one way trip into the church’s dungeon…”

“We’ve already got a foot in the gallows,” Barnaby pointed out. “There’s no need to hide anymore. I’m not so disillusioned to think that I’ll survive this.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Tiger agreed, looking down. “That’s Blue Rose beside you, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

“Where is everyone else?”

“I don’t know.” Barnaby admitted. “Blue Rose said they had been arrested. She said there is going to be a public execution.”

“I can’t believe they were taken.” Tiger groaned. “They’re so strong… It’s unbelievable.” Tiger’s brow furrowed. “We’ve got to save them.”

“The sheriff isn’t an ordinary human,” Barnaby spat angrily. His green eyes clouded over and he smacked his clenched fist against his thigh. “He’s strong, sure, but there’s something else…” Barnaby shook his head in frustration. “It won’t be easy to help the others.”

“Rock Bison isn’t an ordinary human either,” Tiger interjected. “He’ll fight ‘til the end.”

“Let’s hope they are in the condition to help.” Barnaby said. “We’re a bit outnumbered.”

“It doesn’t matter how many there are. I am going to fight.” Tiger replied firmly.

“Every officer of Sternbild versus the two of us? Yeah, I’d say we’re going to die horribly.” Barnaby laughed as soon as the words left his mouth. He shook his head, his hands snaking through his blonde hair. He exhaled nervously, the stress reaching his eyes, burning and pinching them incessantly. “I’m so angry, I can’t even see straight.”

“Bunny.” Tiger’s spoke softly, his voice trailing off. His head nodding up and down as he fought sleep.

Tiger had fallen asleep, still sitting up with his legs crossed beneath him, when Barnaby grabbed him roughly, startling him awake. “Bunny?” Barnaby’s hands crushed against Tiger’s arms, knocking him onto his back. His large, warm palm pressed against Tiger’s mouth and he rolled over, his heavy, muscled body pressing down on the older man’s. He straddled Tiger’s waist, pinning him down against the hard ground.

He looked down into Tiger’s frightened amber eyes. He shook his head, his green eyes narrowed accusingly, “You fell asleep?”

Tiger laughed suddenly, a loud, uncontrollable chuckle erupting from his belly. Barnaby lifted his hand, the sound filling the tent and breaking the tension. Barnaby released Tiger and sat back, sitting on Tiger’s thighs. He looked down at Tiger and could only shake his head. “I guess I fell asleep. Sorry, Lil Bunny.” Tiger shrugged apologetically. His face splayed in a genuine smile.

“I was speaking, idiot…” Barnaby admitted glumly. “I was talking to you and you were fucking asleep!”

“Did I miss anything important?” Tiger asked, his hand pressing against his incredibly sore stomach. He smiled to cover a grimace. His entire body ached from the forceful movement. Barnaby’s heavy body on top of his was increasingly uncomfortable. He considered telling him to get off in no uncertain terms, but something caused him to swallow his complaints.

“You missed a lot.” Barnaby concluded. “I went over the rescue plan, for one.”

“Well, crap,” Tiger grumbled.

“You’re a hopeless old man,” Barnaby complained. “We don’t belong together, do we?”

“Oh, I don’t know. You’re a pretty irritating kid at times.” Tiger replied, inhaling a jagged, pained breath. “I think hopeless and irritating go well in a team.”

“You’re infuriating, Tiger.” Barnaby groaned. Tiger’s eyes clamped shut as Barnaby’s hand flew outward, expecting his hand to strike his cheek. Instead Barnaby’s palms pressed into the ground on either side of his head. Tiger opened his eyes to slits, unsure of what to expect.

There was a peculiar sensation on his lips. It was warm and wet, and incredibly soft. Barnaby’s uneasy breath fanned out across his face. And then, there was that feeling again. Tiger’s eyes fluttered open and he stared up at Barnaby’s face in confusion. “What are you doing, Bunny?”

“It’s your own fault,” Barnaby groaned, dropping his forehead gently against Tiger’s. “You worried me.” Barnaby pushed himself up on his arms and leaned down, his lips grazing against Tiger’s. He kissed well and it sent a warm shiver down Tiger’s body. Tiger groaned as Barnaby pulled his bottom lip into his mouth, biting softly. “I thought you were going to die, Old Man.”

“Bunny,” Tiger groaned breathlessly, his eyes widening in shock as Barnaby’s leg pushed his apart at the knee. Barnaby pushed between Tiger’s legs, spreading them slowly. “Bunny…”

“We’re probably going to die tomorrow.” Barnaby confessed, his breath tickling Tiger’s neck. He placed a soft kiss under Tiger’s jaw, his eyes closing. “I don’t want any regrets…”

“B-b-b-b-unny!” Tiger cried out, sitting up and pushing Barnaby away with both hands. “What are you doing?”

“I just told you,” Barnaby spoke, his voice slow and husky. “I don’t want any regrets before I die.” Barnaby placed his hand on Tiger’s stomach, his fingers tracing the pink, new skin. “I want you.”

“Look-” Tiger began to explain. He let out a surprised yelp as Barnaby lowered his hand, his palm resting on his manhood. “Hey! Stop! Just wait a minute, Bunny!”

Barnaby sat back, his hands falling into his lap. His pale cheeks were brightly flushed, his green eyes hazy. He smiled at Tiger, and it was intoxicating. “What’s wrong, Tiger?” Barnaby fumbled with the tie of his pants nervously, his confidence shrinking away rapidly. “Don’t you want to too?”

“Barnaby, I can’t do… this…!” Tiger pushed against Barnaby, pulling his legs out from beneath the other man. Tiger opened his mouth and shut it before finally deciding how to proceed. “I’m married, Bunny.”

“You…” Barnaby shrank back against the edge of the tent, looking as if he had been slapped. He chewed on his quivering lip, his eyes looking everywhere but at Tiger. He pushed his glasses further up his nose. “You’re married?”

“Yes, well, rather, I was,” Tiger began to explain rapidly. “I was married.” Tiger rubbed his cheeks, squeezing his face in frustration. “My wife died.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Yeah,” Tiger sighed heavily. “Thank you.”

“You mentioned you had a family,” Barnaby’s voice was oddly thick. He turned away from Tiger, scooting toward Blue Rose to check on her. “I didn’t realize you meant _that_ …”

“Yeah,” Tiger said. “I have a daughter as well. She lives with my mom right now…” Tiger smiled as he spoke, his wife and daughter fresh on his mind. “Kaede’s thirteen…”

“I’m only ten years older than your kid, interesting.” Barnaby quipped. “You really are an old man.”

“Bunny,” Tiger breathed out. “Are you okay?”

“Of course. Why shouldn’t I be?” Barnaby said as he crawled to the mouth of the tent. “I’m going to go check on Padraig.”

Barnaby climbed to his feet outside the tent. He stood motionless for a long moment and then he lost it. His composure completely crumbled away, leaving him exposed and vulnerable. “Fuck.” His green eyes flashed, reflecting a bright blue. He smashed his fist against the trunk of a nearby tree, toppling it with an enormous thud.

Barnaby fumed, nearly foaming at the mouth as he bent over. He lifted the fallen tree trunk into his arms, and with inhuman strength, he tossed the tree trunk through the air. The tree crashed into the branches of another tree, ripping through the foliage violently until it landed back on the ground. “Fuck! Fuck!”

Barnaby sank to his knees, his stomach churning painfully. Hot tears of humiliation streaked down his cheeks. He groaned miserably, pounding the ground with one fist and holding his stomach with his other hand. He swallowed thickly, positive that he was moments from retching into the grass.

“Barnaby.” Tiger called out to him, climbing from the tent awkwardly.

“I will kill you.” Barnaby growled. “I will kill you if you come any closer.” Barnaby looked up, his glowing blue eyes narrowing in warning. “Just leave me alone! Go away!”

“I’m sorry.” Tiger apologized. He took a tentative step forward, his hands raised peaceably. “I’m so sorry, Bunny…” Tiger approached slowly, bending at the waist and extending his hand to Barnaby. “I should have realized what was happening earlier.”

“Nothing happened!” Barnaby screamed. He twisted around, striking at Tiger’s hand in anger. He slapped it away and curled back into a ball on the ground. “Please… please, just go away…Fuck!”

“I’m not going anywhere, Bunny. You’re upset. Let me help you…” Tiger spoke soothingly, placing his hand on Barnaby’s back. He rubbed in small circles, smoothing back Barnaby’s hair with his other hand. “It’s okay.”

_It’s not okay!_ Barnaby screamed inside. _It’s really fucking not okay._ Barnaby suddenly vomited into the grass, his insides twitching as he retched. Tiger brushed the hair back from his sweaty forehead, kneeling beside him silently as he held back his long, blonde hair. Barnaby wiped his mouth against his sleeve, blowing his nose in disgust. After a minute or two, he sat up, looking at Tiger with confusion. “What the fuck do you want?”

“I can’t look at you?” Tiger asked, letting go of Barnaby’s hair and sitting back.

“No, you can’t.” Barnaby muttered, staring down at the ground in shame.

“Okay, I won’t look at you.” Tiger promised in a low voice. He swallowed the lump in his throat, placing his hand on Barnaby’s knees. He squeezed gently, flashing an encouraging smile. Barnaby opened his mouth to protest but Tiger cut him off, “I’m not looking, Bunny.”

They sat in complete silence, motionless until Barnaby suddenly spoke, “You must really love her…”

“I do.” Tiger agreed. “Tomoe was my everything.”

“But she’s not here.” Barnaby said.

“No, she’s not.”

“A dead woman has your heart?” Barnaby’s voice was barely audible. His entire body was still, as if he had been frozen. He didn’t even appear to be breathing. Tiger cleared his throat and nodded.

“Yeah.”

Barnaby nodded in response, his fingers pulling at the blades of grass beneath his hands. “What about your body? Does that also belong only to her?”

“Bunny…”

“Tiger, I need to know.” Barnaby looked up, his eyes desperately searching Tiger’s. “Was it just me? Was I the only one…?”

“No.” Tiger blurted out, shaking his head from side to side. His entire body began to shake, an uncomfortable pinch in his lower belly. Barnaby laughed, his breathing jagged and heavy. He wiped at his eyes, drying his lashes quickly. He sniffled, wiping his face with his sleeve.

“You’re not supposed to look at me.” Barnaby whispered.

“Sorry.” Tiger said with a shrug. “I’m not good at following directions.”

“So, now what?” Barnaby asked. “Tomorrow we-”

“Shhh…” Tiger leaned forward, his finger trailing along Barnaby’s lips. “Tomorrow doesn’t matter yet.”

“You’re confusing, Old Man.” Barnaby accused. “And intoxicating.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing either.” Tiger admitted. “I have no clue. I just know I can’t do nothing…”

“Then give me permission.” Barnaby whispered, leaning into Tiger. He placed kisses up and down Tiger’s exposed neck. Barnaby smiled, burrowing his face into the crease of Tiger’s shoulder, inhaling the older man’s musky scent.

“Y-Y-yes…” Tiger gasped as Barnaby pushed himself between his legs. Barnaby placed his hands on Tiger’s ass, lifting Tiger’s legs around his waist. Tiger’s tanned skin erupted into a bright pink blush. He looked up at Barnaby and smiled uncertainly.

“Now,” Barnaby breathed, biting the nape of Tiger’s neck lightly. “Tell me you want me.”

“H-h-huh? You’ve got some nerve, kid.” Tiger growled in embarrassment. He tried to sit up but Barnaby wagged his finger, gently pushing him onto his back. He lifted Tiger’s tattered shirt, tossing it away. He smiled, his hands roaming over Tiger’s skin. He inhaled deeply, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Tell me…” Barnaby brought his knees forward, grinding against Tiger teasingly. “Tell me you want me, Tiger.” Barnaby’s fingers dipped down toward Tiger’s exposed hip bones. He pinched the flesh, letting his fingers linger long enough to tickle.

“Lil’ Bunny….” Tiger growled between gritted teeth. Barnaby chuckled softly, dragging his tongue across Tiger’s Adam’s apple. Tiger kicked against the ground in frustration. “Shit!”

“It’s easy,” Barnaby said, whispering into Tiger’s ear seductively. “I want _you_ , Tiger.” Barnaby’s hand cupped Tiger’s bottom, smacking against it noisily. “You try.”

“Bunny, ah!” Tiger gasped as Barnaby’s tongue traced around his nipple. Barnaby nipped the flesh lightly and Tiger’s skin prickled with desire. “B-B-Barnaby, I… want you…”

“Thank you.” Barnaby pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it aside.

Barnaby exhaled loudly, sitting back on his feet. He looked down at Tiger, his long, muscled arm trailing over Tiger’s exposed chest. He smiled handsomely and Tiger felt the heat settle into his cheeks. “Stop it! You don’t have to look at me!”

Barnaby laughed, dipping his hands under the waistband of Tiger’s trousers. “Oh, but I do. You’re so, mmm, so beautiful.”

“Beautiful!?!” Tiger complained, he attempted to sit up but Barnaby shook his head, staring deeply into his eyes as he removed Tiger’s pants. Barnaby’s gaze was intense, almost more than Tiger could take at one time. Tiger covered his face with his hands, squirming as Barnaby removed the rest of his clothing.

“Yes, absolutely beautiful.” Barnaby repeated. He gazed upon Tiger’s nakedness, his eyes drinking in every detail. His entire body was comfortably warm, and for the first time in hours, he finally felt as if he could breathe. He inhaled deeply, resting his forehead against Tiger’s rising chest. Barnaby closed his eyes, focusing only on the soft, rhythmic pounding of Tiger’s heart.

Barnaby could have stayed there all night, but there was no time. Almost reluctantly, Barnaby straightened up. There was a sudden, but momentary, chill between the two of them as their bodies separated. Within seconds, Barnaby’s mouth was on top of Tiger’s. They kissed hungrily, deeply, passionately, leaving Tiger gasping for air when Barnaby finally pulled away.

Barnaby’s lips moved downward, kissing, licking and biting every inch of skin. Tiger moaned loudly, before covering his mouth in embarrassment, He bit down on his palm, the overwhelming ecstasy nearly unbearable. “Shit,” Barnaby purred, his hand caressing the inside of Tiger’s thigh. “The noises you make.”

“And…” Tiger panted, squirming underneath Barnaby’s teasing touch. “Whose fault is that?”

“Oh, it’s mine… It’s all mine…” Barnaby growled, biting the inside of Tiger’s leg in excitement. “Tell me… Tell me whose fault it is, Tiger…” Barnaby pushed his fingers into Tiger’s mouth, exploring the sensitive roof of his mouth. Tiger groaned, jumping slightly from the ticklish sensation. “Say it, Tiger…” Barnaby wet his fingers thoroughly, thrusting his fingers in and out of Tiger’s mouth. “Say my name.”

“Lil’ Bunny…” Tiger snapped, attempting to turn his moaning into a growl. “Don’t press your luck…” Barnaby frowned playfully, pushing his fingers back into Tiger’s mouth. And then he smiled, pressing his lips to Tiger’s wet mouth. He removed his fingers, his eyes sparking with desire.

He lowered his hand, his wet fingers pressing against Tiger’s body. His eyes travelled downward with his hand, watching himself caress Tiger. Tiger gasped, shuddering in pleasure as Barnaby’s fingers pushed inside. Barnaby moved his hand slowly, gently, his breathing becoming heavier and heavier.

“Fuck… Fuck…Fuck…Fuck…” Tiger cursed breathlessly. He let his head fall back to the ground, his eyes closed tightly.

“Am I hurting you?” Barnaby asked with concern, his hand slowing.

“Don’t stop, idiot.” Tiger groaned, his hand wrapping around Barnaby’s wrist. Barnaby and Tiger shared a meaningful look and suddenly Tiger’s hands were fumbling with Barnaby’s belt. Tiger pushed Barnaby’s trousers down to his hips, grunting as Barnaby removed his fingers.

Barnaby placed his hands on Tiger’s hips, rolling him onto his stomach. His fingers scratched across Tiger’s smooth, toned bottom. He groaned as the skin beneath his hands prickled with gooseflesh. He smacked his palm against Tiger’s ass, biting down on his lip as he positioned himself.

He spanked Tiger again, causing the older man to gasp and leaving behind a pink handprint. Tiger pushed himself back onto his elbows. His head was spinning, his face was pink and hot, his lower body twitched with anticipation and nervousness. Barnaby nipped Tiger’s shoulder, leaving a small scarlet love mark.

Tiger’s entire body slid forward as Barnaby pressed into him. Tiger cried out, his fingers digging into the earth beneath him. He panted, his body adjusting to this new sensation. Barnaby kissed his shoulders, planting kisses all the way down his back. He placed his hand over Tiger’s, squeezing reassuringly.

Slowly, Barnaby began to move, his attention entirely on the comfort of his partner. He rocked his hips gently, his hands securing Tiger’s hips in place. Tiger mewled beneath him, arching his back and curling his toes in pleasure. Barnaby huffed, his muscled arms flexing with the effort.

Tiger groaned deep and uneven, his body tensing. Barnaby nodded wordlessly, reaching his hand around to stroke Tiger’s front. Tiger shuddered uncontrollably, his head lolling forward. “Barnaby… Bar…naby… I…”

“Go ahead, Tiger.” Barnaby grunted. “I’m right here too.”

Barnaby’s body shook with release first. His hips slammed forward, his hands pumping Tiger back and forth with passion. Tiger moaned unintelligibly, his arms giving out. He slid into the grass, his hips still held into place by Barnaby. With a final cry, Tiger collapsed completely, an unmoving wet mess.

Barnaby pulled back, his hand affectionately slapping Tiger on the ass. He leaned down, kissing Tiger’s perfect, beautiful derriere. Tiger muttered in embarrassed protest, but Barnaby ignored him, pulling his body against his. Barnaby wrapped his arms around Tiger, his hands clutching the other’s chest. He placed several kisses in Tiger’s cordovan hair. He pressed his groin against Tiger’s buttocks, wanting to be as close as possible to him.

_I love you_ , Barnaby nearly let the words escape. He nearly ruined everything. He was too relaxed, too comfortable with Tiger in his arms. He cleared his throat. He had to distance himself. Barnaby moved to sit up, but Tiger held him back. He turned his head to the side, smiling handsomely. He looked up at Barnaby with clear amber eyes. “Kotetsu.”

“Hmm?” Barnaby asked, desperate to move away from Tiger’s warm, inviting body.

“My name is Kotetsu Kaburagi.”

_Fuck,_ Barnaby nearly screamed inside his head. He smiled, and settled back down, letting Tiger’s head nestle into the crook of his arm. _You’re such an idiot_ , Barnaby derided himself. _You’re such a fucking idiot._ “Kotetsu…” the name rolled off his tongue.

They dozed off, even though they hadn’t planned too, and Barnaby woke to the sun warming him. He stretched, almost surprised to still find Tiger between his arms. Barnaby smiled, snuggling into the older man’s back. He pressed their bodies together, nuzzling Tiger’s neck and hair. He nipped gently, leaving another mark on the base of Tiger’s neck.

Tiger stirred, mumbling incoherently. His amber eyes blinked open and he looked up at Barnaby in confusion. His dark, thick lashes fluttered and then he smiled, his eyes crinkling in the corners. “Good morning, Lil Bunny.”

“Good morning, Kotetsu.” Barnaby whispered. He kissed Tiger’s temple sweetly, returning the smile. He sat up, searching for his clothes and redressing quickly.

Tiger moved more slowly, his body achy. He pressed his hands to his hips, inhaling deeply. His wounds from the previous night hadn’t completely healed yet. He struggled to dress, doing his best to hide his discomfort from Barnaby. He turned away from him, grimacing as he slid into his pants. He looked down, gritting his teeth as he examined the weepy skin on his abdomen.

“What’s wrong?” Barnaby asked, appearing behind Tiger, so close he could feel Barnaby’s breath on his neck.

Tiger jumped in surprise, letting out a startled laugh. “Oh, whew, you scared me!” Tiger turned around to face Barnaby, his face growing warm and flushed. “I’m fine. I’m fine!” Tiger waved his hand dismissively before pulling his shirt over his head.

“How’s your stomach?” Barnaby asked, his voice full of concern. He lifted Tiger’s shirt, placing a large, warm palm on his lower abdomen. He rubbed small circles onto the fresh skin before pressing firmly against it. “Truly amazing… how fast you can heal.” Tiger let out a pained gasp and Barnaby’s eyes shot upward. “Are you okay? Did that hurt?”

“It’s nothing.” Tiger insisted, pulling his shirt down. He busied himself with his boots, doing his best to block out Barnaby’s worried hovering. “Like you said, I heal fast. I’ll be fine in another hour or two.”

 “Tiger,” Barnaby began unsurely. “If you’re still hurt…” Barnaby swallowed his nerves and blurted out what he wanted to say, “Maybe you shouldn’t go. I can go alone. I can save them, I’m sure of it. You should stay here. Blue Rose can’t go… and if we both die, she’ll die…” Barnaby crossed his arms and sighed. “If you’re injured, you’ll just slow me down. You’ll just endanger yourself and me.”

“Huh?!” Tiger’s brow arched in disbelief. “You’ve got to be kidding! There’s no way I am staying behind. I’m not hurt, I’m fine… and there’s no way I’d-”

“Shhhh…” Barnaby hissed, placing his finger against Tiger’s lips. Tiger’s eyes narrowed in anger, but Barnaby shook his head, placing his palm over Tiger’s mouth. He gestured with his other hand, pointing toward the forest.

Barnaby released Tiger, unsheathing his sword as quietly as possible. He stepped forward, pressing his side against the trunk of a tree. He raised his sword, peering into the foliage anxiously. A stick snapped in the forest. Someone was approaching. They crushed the leaves as they walked, trudging through the forest loudly.

“Hello?” A male’s voice called out.

The blonde young man stepped into the clearing, looking around in horror. Barnaby lowered his weapon, slapping the youth on the back irritably. “You idiot, Origami. What are you doing? You could’ve been killed!”

Origami Cyclone turned, startled by Barnaby’s sudden appearance beside him. Origami’s violet eyes began to well up, but he tried to maintain his composure. “Barnaby! Thank God you’re alive! Tiger! Oh, good…” Origami wiped at his eyes with his hands roughly. “We were attacked last night.”

Tiger embraced Origami Cyclone, patting the young man on the back in relief. “It’s so good to see you’re alright!”

“The sheriff was here…” Origami’s voice shook with emotion. “They just started burning everything. They started killing. We tried to fight; Rock Bison, Fire Emblem, Blue Rose…” Orgami’s voice trailed off. He caught his breath and shook his head, readying himself to continue. “Fire Emblem told me to take the children… I didn’t want to leave… I didn’t… I wanted to stay. I wanted to fight!”

“Where are the children?” Tiger asked.

“They’re here.” Origami gestured toward the forest. “I didn’t know where to take them… I didn’t know nothing would be here…” Origami Cyclone admitted. “I’m missing three. I couldn’t find them last night…”

“They’re gone.” Barnaby said matter-of-factly. “And these guys can’t stay here.”

“Where do we go? What do we do?” Origami questioned. “Every officer in Sternbild has been ordered to arrest or kill us on sight.”

“I know a place.” Tiger interjected. He looked from Origami Cyclone to Barnaby solemnly. “But we have to hurry if we’re going to make it to the execution.”

“Execution?” Origami asked, his violet eyes wide. “You don’t mean-”

“We’re going to save them.” Tiger said simply, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I’ll help.” Origami Cyclone said. He puffed out his chest, straightening himself to his full height. “I don’t care if it’s dangerous.”

“It’s not dangerous.” Barnaby corrected. “It’s suicide.”

* * *

 

“Kotetsu…” Tiger’s mother, Anju’s, mouth curved into a deep frown. She looked through the window at the children waiting outside, forcing a smile. “Okay, of course they can stay here.”

“Will people be looking for them?” Muramasa, Tiger’s brother, questioned. “Are we in danger by harboring them?”

“They’re children.” Anju replied, shaking her head at her eldest son. “And they have nowhere to go.”

“Kaede’s a child as well,” Muramasa snapped. He sighed heavily, pinching the base of his nose in frustration. “Did you think of her, Kotetsu?”

“Of course I did!” Tiger groaned. “I think of her nearly every moment of every day. I would do anything to protect her, that’s why I stay away…”

“You could hide it...this power of yours…” Muramasa suggested. “You’ve always had the option. You just never took it.”

“Muramasa… stop.” Anju exhaled heavily, sitting down on the stool. “Kotetsu, they can stay. I’m not a doctor though, the young woman, she may…”

“I understand.” Tiger breathed. “I couldn’t leave her in the forest to die alone. She’s strong. She’ll pull through, I know it.”

“And you?” Anju questioned, turning to face her youngest son. She reached up, stroking his hair with her wrinkled hand. “Will you pull through?”

“Ma…”

“I understand.” Anju whispered, she dropped her hand to her side and pulled away. She leaned against the counter weakly, taking deep breaths.

“Are you okay, Mom?” Muramasa asked, glaring at his younger brother.

“Talk to Kaede, before you go…” Anju said, looking at Tiger meaningfully.

“Of course.” Tiger pressed his lips to his mother’s cheek, wrapping his arms around her in an embrace. “Thanks, Mom.” Tiger released his mother, taking a step back. “I… I love you.”

“I know.” Anju nodded her head, blinking away tears. “I love you too.”

Tiger smiled apologetically at his brother, leaning in for a hug. Muramasa hugged his brother tightly, whispering into his ear, “How about you just come back home, huh? Save us all some grief.”

“I’ll do everything in my power.” Tiger promised. Muramasa finally released his younger brother and Tiger scratched his head uneasily. “I have to leave soon. I’ll go talk to Kaede.”

As soon as the door closed behind Tiger, Anju collapsed into Muramasa’s arms, sobbing uncontrollably. Tiger paused outside the door, his stomach twisting into knots. He swallowed a painful lump and continued walking.

Kaede was in the stables, currying one of the horses. When Tiger approached she huffed, turning her back to him irritably. Tiger leaned against the gate of the stall, propping his leg up on one of the wooden planks. He watched Kaede working, his heart swelling with so many emotions.

“You know, I rode a horse yesterday. I wasn’t very good at it though,” Tiger laughed, leaning against the gate lazily. “We didn’t have any when I was a kid.”

“What do you want?” Kaede asked finally. She dropped the brush into the dirt and straw and turned to face Tiger. “Why are you here?”

“Ah, Kaede…” Tiger began unsurely.

“Just spit it out.” Kaede snapped impatiently. “I have chores to do.”

“I’m sorry I’m never here.” Tiger blurted out. He lowered his chin to his arm, resting against the gate. “I’m sorry I left in the first place. I’m sorry that I’ve come back, just to turn around and leave again…” Kaede stood in silence, listening to her father. Her face was hesitant, her emotions hidden behind a pensive mask.

“I’m sorry I’m not normal. I’m sorry I’m dangerous. I’m sorry your mom died. I’m sorry your father left. I’m sorry that I’m a failure. I’m sorry that you’re angry… I’m sorry that you’re hurt…” Tiger’s voice cracked and he closed his eyes, chewing on his bottom lip. “It’s amazing, you are the one thing I want to protect, above all else, and you are the one person I fail more than anyone…”

“I love you, Kaede.” Tiger continued. “And I will protect you, no matter the cost.”

“I’d rather you be here.” Kaede said, breaking her silence. “I’d rather have you.”

“There’s something I have to do.” Tiger spoke with great effort. He blinked, moisture rolling down his cheek. “There’s a bad man. I have to stop him.” Tiger sniffed, wiping his face. “His reach will make it all the way out here if I don’t. I can’t let that happen.”

“Then promise you’ll come back.” Kaede cried out. “Promise me!”

“I promise.” Tiger said, smiling wretchedly. He reached out and placed his hand on her head, smoothing his hand over her soft hair affectionately. “I promise.”

* * *

 

“Okay,” Barnaby began to explain. “Tiger is going to be on the ground. You’ll be driving the wagon. Keep your hood up, stay quiet. Once they bring them out, attract Rock Bison’s attention somehow. Stay by the wagon…” Barnaby paused, looking from Origami Cyclone to Tiger. “Origami, we’ll need a distraction as soon as they are on the scaffold.”

“Okay.” Origami Cyclone nodded in understanding.

“I’ll be up top. Right around here.” Barnaby drew a diagram in the dirt. “I’ll find a way to cut the ropes.” Barnaby scratched his cheek thoughtfully. “Once they are freed, Tiger, you need to arm them. We have swords, axes and bows in the wagon.”

“Got it.”

“Origami, your distraction… it needs to be big. It has to work. Do you have any ideas?” Barnaby pressed.

“Actually, I do… but, well,” Origami Cyclone muttered nervously. “I… I have a power…”

“Really?” Tiger asked in surprised. “What is it?”

“It won’t help in a fight, but, well,” Origami Cyclone closed his eyes, focusing intently. His body rippled, like a reflection in the water, and then, suddenly, Barnaby and Tiger were staring at a second Barnaby. “I can look and sound like anyone.”

“Can you copy other things?” Barnaby asked excitedly. “Like my strength and speed or…”

“No…” Origami replied sadly, speaking through Barnaby’s mouth and with his voice. “I can’t do that.”

“This is amazing, Origami.” Tiger admitted with a smile. He took a lock of the _other_ Barnaby’s hair into his hand. His thumb stroked the soft, smooth blonde hairs. Looking and touching, he could tell no difference. “I had no idea.”

“This’ll help.” Barnaby agreed, watching himself with awe. He reached out and brushed his own cheek, smiling as Origami returned back to normal. “You’ve hidden this far too long, Origami.”

“I hope it helps.” Origami said meekly.

“Have some confidence,” Tiger said kindly, patting Origami on the shoulder. “This is an amazing gift.”

“It’s more than amazing,” Barnaby insisted. “It might be the thing that saves our lives…”

“I won’t let you down.” Origami Cyclone vowed.

“Alright, I think I’ve covered everything,” Barnaby said, sighing anxiously. “Does everyone understand the plan? We go, we get them, we leave.” Barnaby looked at Tiger pointedly. “I wanna kill the sheriff, but too much is at stake this time. We don’t fight him today…”

“Yeah.”

“Tiger.” Barnaby warned. “Don’t go looking for a fight today.”

“I understand.” Tiger replied, frustrated.

“Alright, then from here we split up.” Barnaby said. “Good luck to each of you. I’ll see you in Sternbild Square.”

“Bunny,” Tiger jogged after Barnaby, stopping him before he climbed in Padraig’s saddle. “Wait!” Tiger grabbed Barnaby’s arm, and Barnaby turned, eyeing Tiger curiously. Tiger scratched his head, smiling. “Ah, well, I just…”

“Be careful, Kotetsu.” Barnaby whispered his name, treasuring the sensation as it escaped his lips. Barnaby smiled and pecked Tiger on the forehead. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

“Yeah, you too, Barnaby.” Tiger nodded his head, backing up toward the wagon slowly.

Origami looked away hurriedly as Barnaby turned toward him. His face was red and his eyes were wide. Barnaby chuckled to himself at the young man’s embarrassment at witnessing the scene. “Are you ready, Origami?”

“Uh, yes, Barnaby…” Origami replied. He climbed into Samson’s saddle, holding the reins high.

“Don’t worry, Origami. You’ve got a good horse. He runs home when he’s scared.” Barnaby teased, winking playfully.  He rode toward Samson, pulling Padraig beside him. “Just let Samson know you’re in control.”

“Okay,” Origami clicked his tongue, urging Samson forward. He turned around, flashing an excited smile. “Thanks, Barnaby. I’ll be on my way now…”

“Me too.” Tiger added. “The wagon is heavy. The road is long and uneven.”

Tiger climbed onto the seat of the wagon and was barely seated before the two mules began to walk. He sat back against the hard, wooden bench and sighed, pulling his hood further down over his head. He waited a few moments, and then a little longer, before turning around. He chewed his bottom lip in silence, watching Barnaby fall farther and farther away. “Well fuck.” Tiger muttered under his breath.

* * *

 

Sternbild Square was bustling with activity. There were hundreds of men, women and children, pushing and shoving for the best view of the scaffold. The crowd was lively, talkative, loud. Some were hesitant, others were merely excited to witness such a large public execution.

Rock Bison and Fire Emblem were at the head of the line, led by one of the sheriff’s men through the crowd. They were bloodied and bruised, their eyes swollen at the brow and sunken underneath. Tiger kept his hand on the mule’s harness, leaning as close as he dared. “Antonio!” Tiger waved his arms, praying that Rock Bison would see him before they passed. “Antonio!”

Rock Bison’s head turned slightly, his cut lip splaying in a smile. He turned to the other side, whispering something to Fire Emblem. Fire Emblem turned, searching the crowd hurriedly. His eyes met Tiger’s and he smiled sadly. He mouthed a single word, Go.

Tiger’s stomach dropped but he ignored it. He took a step backward, his hand snaking under the wagon’s cover. He would be ready. He wouldn’t mess up. This was going to work.

Rock Bison and Fire Emblem stood in a row of six, motionless and silent as the nooses were fitted over their necks. Tiger couldn’t have ever imagined the defeat in their eyes. Why weren’t they fighting back? Why were they just standing there? Why did they already look dead?

The sheriff walked into the square, clearly intoxicated. He smiled, spinning in a tight circle in presentation. He waved his arm and his men rushed forward, placing a chair behind him. He sat down, leaning back in his chair, and crossed his legs. “For the crimes of tax evasion, theft, burglary, extortion, and murder,which being against the laws of the Holy Roman Empire, I have decreed and given sentence that they shall be condemned from life to death by rope.”

The crowd erupted into noise. Many people shook their heads, turning their cheeks. They furrowed their brows and spoke in whispered dissent. The men standing before them on the scaffold had saved the common people. They brought money, medicine, food. The men were good and just. But still, others cheered, greasing their fat hands with rotten ammunition. They threw foul vegetables, eggs and other unmentionable filth.

The sheriff laughed, throwing his arms open in gesture. “Executioner.” The executioner nodded and Tiger began to panic. Where was Origami? Where was the distraction? Tiger looked up, searching the city walls for Barnaby. He couldn’t find him.

_Shit_ , Tiger began to panic. His body began to shake and he thought he might become ill. He watched the executioner cross the platform. He watched him raise his meaty, muscular arm. He pulled the lever and trapdoors fell. The crowd roared.

Tiger couldn’t look. But he had too. His heart felt like it had been crushed.  He peered through his hands with dread. The row of prisoners had fallen through the trap doors, and into the sand below. They looked up in surprise, the noose ropes loose and detached from the scaffold. The rope was uncut, unfrayed. There was no arrow shot at the last minute.

“How?” The sheriff muttered, sitting up in his chair. He narrowed his eyes and pointed at the executioner. “Kill him!”

The executioner looked down, yelling at the prisoners still too petrified to move, “Run! Run now!” The executioner looked up, his large brown eyes full of panic “Tiger!”

An arrow struck one of the sheriff’s men and Tiger snapped back to reality. He moved quickly, removing the cover of the wagon. He climbed inside, grabbing a sword from the pile. He watched incredulously as the executioner dropped to the ground, using a knife to free Rock Bison’s hands.

“Kill them!” The sheriff shouted. “I want them all dead!”

The executioner’s body shuddered, shrinking back down to Origami Cyclone’s small frame. He tried to push his way through the crowd, but the sheriff’s men were so close. He ducked down, hoping to blend into the crowd, and the next moment he had disappeared completely into a sea of anonymity.

“Lock the gates!” The sheriff demanded. “NO ONE LEAVES THIS CITY!”

The crowd murmured, splitting down the middle as the sheriff’s men charged through. They began to grab people, violently searching for Origami Cyclone. The crowd grew increasingly nervous and resistant and began shoving the officers back.

“Tiger!” Fire Emblem called out, running toward him, their hands still bound behind their back. Fire Emblem turned around, sighing in relief as Tiger cut their restraints. “Tiger, you fool!” Fire Emblem growled. “The sheriff is like us… he’s not…”

“I know, I fought him yesterday.” Tiger replied, pulling a small bag of grey powder from the wagon. Fire Emblem held the pouch in their hands, smiling with pleasure. “I brought you the good stuff, Nathan.”

“Thanks, Tiger.” Fire Emblem exhaled loudly. They opened the pouch pouring the powder into their palm.

“How about you open up an exit for us?” Tiger suggested, climbing into the seat of the wagon. Fire Emblem nodded, running toward the wall of the city. “Cover him, Rock Bison.” Tiger grabbed the reins and steered the mules in the direction that Fire Emblem had taken. “Oh and watch out, I actually don’t know how to drive this thing…”

Rock Bison worked quickly and efficiently, even in his injured state, he was immensely strong compared to any normal man. He hoisted one of the sheriff’s men into the air, slamming him down on his knee in a bone breaking move. Brute strength alone got Fire Emblem across the city square as Tiger helped the other prisoners board the wagon.

Fire Emblem clenched the powder in their fist tightly. But then they opened their palm, holding out their arm calmly. They lowered their lips and blew gently, the grey powder shooting into the air innocently. They gestured with their arm, bending at the waist slightly, almost as if dancing. A stream of fire erupted from Fire Emblem’s palm. The air sparked once, then twice, and then, suddenly, the air crackled. An explosion ripped through the space between Fire Emblem and the wall and with an enormous crash, the north wall of the city collapsed.

Tiger jumped from the wagon, calling to Rock Bison, as he and Fire Emblem climbed onto the bench. “Head home.”

Rock Bison’s head turned and he looked at Tiger in surprise. “ _Home_ home?”

“Go to Tomoe.” Tiger called after him, the mules running wildly ahead. The benefit of them being friends since childhood was that they knew each other so well; they hardly had to explain anything at all. Rock Bison nodded, climbing into the wagon bed as they disappeared behind dust and smoke.

 Tiger stumbled over a bit of broken rock, his lower stomach burning as his body twisted to right itself. He was caught in a strong set of arms, the large palms pressing their bodies together. “Careful, Kotetsu…”

“Oh, Bun-” The words died in his mouth as he looked up into blue eyes. Tiger pushed against the sheriff, stumbling backward and falling. He was kept from the ground by the sheriff’s hand wrapped forcefully around his wrist. “Let go.”

The sheriff smiled a wicked smile that made Tiger’s insides crawl. “Make me.”

“Okay,” Tiger growled, smiling humorlessly. He straightened up, his amber eyes reflecting blue. He moved quickly, yanking his arm from the sheriff’s grip. He jumped backward and readied himself to run.

“You’re really going to run away?” The sheriff asked, his face twisting into a sinister grin. “Like a fucking chicken?”

_Don’t take the bait_ , Tiger told himself. _Stick to the plan._ Tiger took off suddenly, scanning the square as he ran for Barnaby and Origami Cyclone amidst the confusion. The sheriff, however, was clever. Unable to run after Tiger, he had predicted his next move, and moved to cut him off.

. He looked up, smiling in relief as he saw Barnaby and Origami Cyclone. They sat on the ledge of the wall and waved him onward, lowering a makeshift ladder. Tiger didn’t even see it coming. He had almost reached the wall, he was so close, and then he was struck in the face.

He staggered backward, his eyes struggling to focus on the stone wall only inches in front of his face. He reached a hand out touching the rough wall in confusion. He heard someone yell his name and then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw the club swing, striking him once more in the head. His nose broke, copious amounts of warm blood pouring down his face. His jaw popped, sliding out of socket and pushing to the side, several teeth lodged in his cheek.

Time froze. Tiger watched as the sheriff lowered the club, twirling it around before bringing it up to his own mouth. The sheriff’s tongue snaked across the tip of the club, swirling through the fresh blood. He smiled and looked up at Barnaby, raising the club as if offering a toast. Tiger’s vision was shaky, sickeningly fading in and out of focus, but he followed the club with his eyes.

Barnaby was at the top of the wall, looking down in horror. Origami Cyclone was holding him tightly, but Tiger couldn’t understand why. Barnaby, athletic, intelligent, agile, strong Barnaby, seemed unable to balance.  Origami even had to let go of the ladder to hold Barnaby with both hands. They were shouting, but all Tiger could hear was a ringing in his ears. He lifted his hand toward his eyes, blocking the last bright rays of the setting sun. The third time the club struck him, he went down and he didn’t move.


	3. Part III

Barnaby sat alone, a meat pie untouched in front of him. He hadn’t eaten. He kept replaying the sick incident in his mind. All that blood. He couldn’t sleep. His nights were haunted by the image of Tiger in his final moment. The rest of the men were loud and rowdy, busy preparing for travel. Barnaby’s voice was still raw from screaming. They planned to move across country, to leave Sternbild and their death sentences far behind.  They would go into hiding and live out the rest of their days in relative peace. Barnaby couldn’t accept that.

“Hey, Barnaby,” Rock Bison called out to him. He walked over, sitting down beside Barnaby with a sigh. “There’s no reason for you to stay. There’s nothing here for you anymore.” They sat in silence for a long time before Rock Bison spoke again. “He’s dead, Barnaby.”

Barnaby stared at Rock Bison coolly, his green eyes narrowed and calculating. “If I wanted the sheriff’s shit propaganda that the newspaper spews, I would just fucking read it.”

“Barnaby, you saw him. Origami saw him. He’s dead…” Rock Bison sighed heavily, holding his head in his hands. “He was my best friend… don’t you think if there was any possibility I would be right beside you?”

Barnaby was silent for a moment before abruptly standing. He rasped his hand against the table, looking in the opposite direction. “I’m bringing him home. He deserves to be here.” Barnaby’s voice caught in his throat and he nearly collapsed to the ground. His head swam and his stomach twisted. “He needs to be here. He needs to be buried next to _her_ …” Barnaby couldn’t speak. He gasped for air, his lungs threatening to explode. “They can’t have him. His body… his body is mine… I get to decide…”

Rock Bison looked up at Barnaby in surprise. He was at a loss. Unable to think of anything to say he had to watch Barnaby go. Rock Bison cursed, shoving against the table in anger. The table flipped, rolling a few yards where it smashed into a dozen pieces. He cursed, mentally kicking himself for breaking the Kaburagi’s table.

“Barnaby, wait…” Barnaby turned, eyeing the young girl with interest. He didn’t know her well, but he had quickly learned that Kaede’s eyes were as sharp as her tongue. She was a clever girl with a personality at complete odds with her father’s. She locked eyes with Barnaby and immediately began to speak, “I heard what you said…”

A million thoughts rushed over Barnaby. Had he said something incriminating back there? Had he given too much away? He swallowed a lump in his throat nervously. Did he accidentally tarnish a dead man’s reputation?

“Are you really going? To bring him, his body, back?”

Barnaby nodded emphatically. “I am.”

“Thank you.” Kaede whispered, looking down at the ground. “It’s all I can think about. His body being displayed… or…”

“Don’t.” Barnaby interrupted, placing his hands on her narrow shoulders. “Just stop. Picture him as the last time you saw him.”

“He promised he’d come back.” Kaede burst into tears. “He promised and he lied!”

“Sometimes adults break their promises.” Barnaby explained, a strange feeling of detachment separating him from the conversation. “It doesn’t mean he didn’t want to come home.”

“What about you?” Kaede questioned. “Will you come back?”

“I won’t promise you, Kaede.” Barnaby said. “I can’t promise I won’t die, but I can swear, I will not return without your father.”

“You have magic too.” Kaede suddenly said. “The same magic he did.”

“I don’t know if what I have is magic or not,” Barnaby admitted with a laugh. “But your dad, he definitely had magic.”

“Good luck, Barnaby.” Kaede bounced on her tiptoes, placing a kiss on Barnaby’s cheek. “I’ll pray for your safe return.”

Barnaby nodded, unable to speak. He pat the girl on the head and smiled sadly before turning away. He walked across the field toward the stables. When he entered he found that Padraig had already had his tack put on, and Samson was behind, attached to Padraig by a halter and lead.

Barnaby looked at Muramasa Kaburagi, both men measuring the other’s worth with a glance. Muramasa nodded, handing Padraig’s reins to Barnaby. “My mother, she needs the closure…” Muramasa paused for a moment, chewing on his bottom lip. “Please, bring him home. Let us put him to rest…”

“Only death can stop me.” Barnaby said simply. He climbed into the saddle, taking Samson’s lead rope. Muramasa pushed open the door to the stall and Barnaby rode out.

“Don’t be in such a hurry to die.” Muramasa replied, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re young; you’ll find something to live for.”

* * *

 

“The Death of Wild Tiger! The Death of a Hero!” the sheriff read the newspaper aloud, his voice upbeat and delighted. “I had no idea Wild Tiger was such an icon of the people! Barnaby Brooks, Jr… that asshole, I thought that if I squashed him, I’d squash them all…”

“The thieves of the forest, they’re no more, Jake.” One of his officers replied excitedly. “They’re on the run! The cowards are running scared!”

“See. Symbols!” The sheriff explained, biting into a roasted chicken thigh. The juices dripped down his chin and he slurped impolitely. “Wild Tiger was a symbol of the people. A hero amongst the common folk.” He shoved a handful of chicken into his mouth, chewing with effort. “I’ll admit, I didn’t know where to hit Barnaby at first.”

The sheriff sat back in his chair, gesturing to the body on display in front of him. “But now I know! I would never have thought…” The sheriff took a swig of mead and brushed his hands off on his pants. The sheriff fidgeted in his chair impatiently, his eyes roaming over the bruised, bloody flesh before him. “Wake him up… I’m tired of waiting…”

“Of course, Sheriff.”

“Wait…” The sheriff called out. “Never mind, I want to do it.” The sheriff pushed back from the table, upsetting the plate and glass. He gestured to his men. “Take the table, leave my chair. And leave me. I want to be alone for a few minutes.”

Tiger woke in absolute darkness. Terror dripped down his throat, settling in a pool at the bottom of his stomach. He blinked his swollen eyes, desperately trying to make something out. The first thing he felt was unbearable pain. It hit him all at once and he let out a strangled cry. He began to struggle, panicking as he realized his hands were shackled above his head.

“Wild Tiger,” the sheriff’s coarse, nasally voice reached his ears. Tiger froze, turning his head from side to side blindly. “You can’t see, can you, Tiger?” Tiger was silent, the chill of fear and the cold, damp air causing his exposed skin to prickle.  “Are you scared?”

“No.” Tiger lied, the movement of his jaw nearly paralyzing him.

“Are you hurt?” the sheriff asked, his voice growing closer. “A regular man would be dead.” Tiger fought against the shackles, pushing himself up on his tiptoes and trying to slide his wrist through. The sheriff laughed. “You’ve been asleep for three days.”

_Three days?_ Tiger felt the urge to be sick. How could he still be in so much pain after three days? Where was he? Where was Barnaby? “No one is coming for you,” the sheriff said, as if reading Tiger’s mind. “You are going to die a martyr.”

“Just kill me.” Tiger spoke before the thought had even completely formed in his head.

“I will.” The sheriff promised, his voice low. “But first…” Tiger gasped as the sheriff’s grabbed a fistful of his hair. He dragged his head backward, his teeth biting into the exposed flesh of his throat. “I plan on fucking you up so badly no one can identify the rest of you.”

Tiger let out a pained scream, kicking at the sheriff with all of his strength. The sheriff released Tiger, smacking him across the cheek. “Bad dog, don’t attack your Master.” The sheriff walked around Tiger, his boots shuffling across the floor. “Or, I suppose, you’re a bad _kitty_ …”

Tiger inhaled deeply. He was not alone and defenseless, he had the strength of one hundred men. He focused on releasing his power, only to realize that it wasn’t working. His brain whirred with reasons and scenarios. He felt like he couldn’t breathe. His hope was beginning to falter.

“I’m sure you’re wondering why you can’t use your powers.” The sheriff’s voice cut into Tiger’s thoughts like a saw. “Interesting gift you have there… to be able to heal yourself from the brink of death. It’s just a theory,” The sheriff reasoned, a smile evident in his voice. “But I don’t think you have enough power to heal yourself and fight me at the same time…”

“It’s kinda inconvenient.” The sheriff taunted. There was a loud scraping noise, like metal on stone, and then the sound of approaching footsteps. “Gentlemen, let’s see how far we can go. Let’s see how thin his power can spread…”

“W-w-w-w-w-wait!” Tiger cried out, his jaw popping as he spoke. “Stop! What are you doing? Stop!”

* * *

 

Barnaby stood in front of a long line of wanted posters. Hundreds of visages of his own face stared down at him, but all Barnaby could see was Tiger. Tiger’s posters had been painted over with a large red X. There was an entire row of ugly, red X’s. It felt like they went on and on with no end.

Barnaby led the two horses into the city’s open and unattended gate. He looked around apprehensively, pausing a moment to relish the decimated northern wall. If only he could cause more damage. If only he could inflict half of his pain onto the city of Sternbild.

He tethered the horses outside of the church. He walked up the uneven stone steps, stepping into the church quietly, bowing at the first pew. He advanced through the church, dipping his hand into the chalice of holy water and crossing himself in prayer.

“Hello, my child,” the priest said kindly. He hadn’t recognized Barnaby yet.  He gestured with open arms, welcoming Barnaby inside. “What brings you here?”

Barnaby removed his hood. The priest took a startled step backward, looking from the door to Barnaby fretfully. “Brooks… what’re you… why’re you?!?”

“Father Francis,” Barnaby kneeled. “I ask for absolution.”

“Absolution?” the priest asked in disbelief.

“Yes, Father.” Barnaby looked up at the priest, speaking honestly. “I am about to die.”

“Leave this place.” The priest insisted. “You are a good man and your parents were good people! It’s nonsense for you to have returned here! The sheriff…”

“Please, Father, it’s been four years and six months since my last confession.” Barnaby pleaded. “I have killed many men, on and off the battlefield. But I did so for the glory of God. I have committed adultery. But I did that for myself… I have coveted…” Barnaby broke down, sinking to the floor. “I have stolen… I have lied… I have…”

“Dear, boy.” The priest whispered. He placed his hand on the top of Barnaby’s head and sighed. “God the Father of mercies, through the death and resurrection of your son, you have reconciled the world to yourself and sent the Holy Spirit among us for the forgiveness of sins. Through the ministry of the church, may God grant you pardon and peace. And I absolve you of your sins, in the name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.”

“Amen,” Barnaby exhaled, closing his eyes. He sat there for a moment longer and then climbed to his feet. “Thank you, Father.”

“Peace be with you, Barnaby.” The priest said.

“And also with you,” Barnaby returned.

Barnaby walked from the church, the door swinging shut behind him. He jogged down the stone steps and began to run down the street. He had no idea where to look for Tiger’s body. And he had no intention of letting his murderer go unpunished. Before he could go any further with his quest, he had to find the Sheriff of Sternbild.

* * *

 

“ _Kitty, Kitty_ ,” the sheriff placed his hands on Tiger’s face. He brushed his thumbs over Tiger’s lips, pushing the digits inside roughly. Blood and spit dripped down his fingers to his wrists. “You awake, _kitty, kitty_?”

Tiger’s swollen eyes fluttered open. He smiled in relief, his eyes beginning to focus. _I’m not blind,_ Tiger nearly cried. _I’m not blind._  He blinked slowly, the sheriff’s leering face doubled in his vision. Tiger shook his head from side to side and the sheriff removed his hands. Tiger wanted to speak, God, how he wished he could reply smartly, but he couldn’t. Tiger had no strength remaining. His fight was gone.

“Get him down,” the sheriff instructed. “Take him to the chamber.” The men looked at one another doubtfully, as if they had misheard him. The sheriff clenched his fist and with his other hand, tapped his finger to his forehead pointedly. “Do as I ask or die.”

Tiger groaned as the metal chain holding him upright was slackened. He fell to the hard ground. His shoulders screamed from the abuse. Tiger cried out, unable to move his own body, the agony was unbearable.

He was rolled onto his stomach roughly, his face pressing into the stone floor. One of the men unlocked the shackles on his hands. His arms slid down to his side, but they hung unnaturally, grotesquely popped out of the sockets. The sheriff watched Tiger with interest. He smiled as Tiger groaned, the pain from being lifted nearly making him pass out.

“Pop his shoulders back in place.” The sheriff instructed. “And then leave him in the chamber.”

_The chamber._ If Tiger had had the strength to fret he would have. His imagination produced all kinds of horrors that he would be subjected to in _the chamber_.  He closed his eyes tightly, unable to defend himself in any way, he accepted it. _I’m going to die,_ Tiger realized. _And it’s going to be painful._

The men tossed Tiger down on his stomach. One man grabbed one arm and another grabbed the other **. POP!  POP!** Tiger screamed, biting down on the cloth beneath him. He was rolled over onto his back and he jumped as a wet rag touched his skin.

He opened his eyes, realizing he was in a bed chamber. He watched a young maid’s hands shake. She did her best not to look at him as she began to wipe the blood from his skin. A second maid placed a warm cloth over his face. He inhaled deeply and let himself sink further into the bed.

“ _Kitty, Kitty_ ,” the sheriff whispered. “Wakey, Wakey…” Tiger’s eyes opened and he was instantly very awake. He lifted his hands, the pain was intense, but he’d live. He pushed against the bed, moving himself further from the sheriff. The sheriff merely smiled, taking a puff from his pipe. The sheriff leaned forward, blowing the smoke in Tiger’s face.

“How do you feel, Wild Tiger?” _Like death_ , Tiger thought. The sheriff clicked his tongue in disappointment. “I had hoped you’d be feeling better. That’s why I moved you in here.”

“You really are sick.” Tiger said, his voice raw and strained. “Just finish it.”

“I am, be patient.” The sheriff rebuked. He slapped Tiger’s hand, like you would an overeager child near a hot stove. Tiger narrowed his eyes, a hidden reserve of fight bubbling up in his stomach. The sheriff looked up and shook his head. “When will you learn, Tiger… You can’t beat me.”

_It’s like he can…,_ Tiger thought, a shudder coursing through his body as the sheriff smiled. _Barnaby_ , Tiger changed his direction of thought. The first thing he could think of was Barnaby. _Barnaby’s green eyes, Barnaby’s pale hair, Barnaby’s spectacles, Barnaby’s pride, Barnaby’s voice, Barnaby’s lips, Barnaby’s hands, Barnaby’s…_ Tiger cleared his throat, shaking his head to clear it. _Think of anything besides that_ , Tiger admonished himself.

The sheriff took another puff of his pipe, watching Tiger intently for a few minutes. He leaned forward suddenly, placing his pipe on the bedside table. And then he was there, leaning against the headboard, his body squeezed between Tiger and the edge of the bed. He propped his hand behind his head, looking down at Tiger thoughtfully.

The sheriff leaned in, his teeth grazing Tiger’s ear. He pulled the flesh into his mouth, nipping and licking. Tiger’s amber eyes widened in horror, he pushed his hands weakly against the other man. Tiger fell onto his side, the sheriff closing the distance between them in an instant.

“Fuck no.” Tiger growled, his hands clenching into fists. He swung wildly, striking the sheriff on the face. The sheriff narrowed his eyes, pulling his hand back to strike Tiger. But Tiger wasn’t a helpless child. He took the slap to the cheek and returned with a second punch to the sheriff’s jaw.

The sheriff grew infuriated. He grabbed a pillow and pulled it taut in both hands. He rolled over, on top of Tiger, pulling the pillow over Tiger’s face. Tiger’s fingers dug into the sheriff’s wrists and hands. He drew blood, his fingers tearing at anything he could reach. “You fucking bitch…” The sheriff punched the pillow until Tiger’s hands fell away.  And then he removed the pillow, tossing it to the floor. He grabbed Tiger’s face roughly turning it in his direction. Tiger’s eyes were open but unseeing, blood trickling from his nose and mouth.

The sheriff knocked Tiger’s legs apart, pushing himself between Tiger’s knees. He fumbled with his belt, hurriedly undoing his trousers. He placed his hands on Tiger’s hips, grabbing at the smooth, muscular flesh greedily.  He lifted Tiger’s ass, smacking his palm against his flesh. He smacked again, and again, waiting until Tiger turned to look at him. He smiled down, letting a thick ball of spit land on Tiger’s face.

The sheriff was positioning himself when there was a knock on the door. The urgent knocking continued. The sheriff growled in frustration, putting himself back in his pants. “It had better be good, fucking idiot!”

“Jake,” the man on the other side of the door spoke very reluctantly, his nerves very evident in his shaking voice. “Barnaby Brooks Jr. is in the square… he and a small group of men have taken hostages…”

The sheriff’s eyes met Tiger’s. They stared at one another for a moment and then Tiger smiled. The sheriff placed his hand on Tiger’s face, pushing himself back off of the bed. “Stay put. I’ll bring his head, so you can enjoy him one last time before you go.”

* * *

 

Barnaby paced back and forth, his quivering hands holding his bow. He climbed onto the ledge of the fountain, lifting a hand to his mouth, “I am here for the body of Wild Tiger!” Barnaby gestured to the hostages being held below. They stood in a huddled mass, cowering from the hooded men corralling them. “You have ten minutes and then I kill the first hostage…”

The commotion had garnered an audience. They whispered and gasped at Barnaby’s threat. Some were brought to tears, frightful for their friends and neighbors who had been taken hostage. Barnaby strung his arrow, shooting one of the wanted posters plastered along the wall. “Give us the body of Wild Tiger.”

One of the men standing with the hostages stepped forward, dragging a young maiden by the arm. He held her up in presentation, pulling the blade from his belt. He placed the knife against her throat, holding the struggling woman in place.  He turned in a circle slowly, his eyes searching the crowd.

“Good afternoon, Master Brooks!” the sheriff called out, taking the steps two at a time. He smiled, his blue eyes sparking angrily.  He took the crossbow offered to him and strung it, releasing an arrow almost instantly. One of Barnaby’s men leapt forward to swing his sword, blocking Barnaby from the arrow.  Barnaby looked from the man to the sheriff. “You’ll have to do better than that. Tiger did.”

Barnaby drew his sword, holding it in both hands. “Give us the body.”

“What body?” the sheriff asked, walking straight toward Barnaby. He gestured toward two of the hostage takers, speaking to his men, “Take them down first.”

“Wild Tiger’s body!” Barnaby yelled, his hands shaking on the handle of the sword. The sheriff stopped only feet from Barnaby. He stood motionless and silent and then his face splayed into a devious smirk. “We’ll start killing… we’ll kill these people! That woman will die!”

“Am I supposed to care?” the sheriff asked. He unsheathed his sword and lunged, piercing through Barnaby’s stomach. He pulled out quickly, jabbing twice more before sheathing his sword.

Barnaby’s green eyes opened wide, the color rippling into a soft violet. He dropped his sword and grabbed at his stomach, his mouth open and slack. He coughed, blood spewing from his mouth. He fell to his knees, the edges of his body blurring, as if his whole body was vibrating. “Such a shame, your power was kinda cool.” Origami Cyclone gasped, looking up to the sky. The sheriff watched the young man struggle to breathe. He sighed heavily and scratched his cheek. “I’ll let you in on a little secret,” the sheriff whispered. “There is no body because Tiger’s not dead.” And then the sheriff turned, walking back toward his home.

“Sheriff!” one of his men yelled in a panic. He held up his shield, blocking himself from a barrage of flames. “Sheriff! These two are still alive.”

“Well, whose fault is that? Did you not understand my instructions?” The sheriff scoffed.

* * *

 

Tiger rolled off of the bed, crashing to the floor with a thud. He pushed himself up on his elbows, his shoulders aching terribly. He struggled to bring his knees underneath him. He moved slowly, his entire body shaking from the pain. He stopped to rest, pulling himself in a sitting position. He counted to ten and closed his eyes, rolling back onto his hands and knees.

He crawled to the dresser beside the window. He opened it, searching through the drawers for some clothes. He pulled a pair of underwear from the bottom of a stack, the other clothes toppling in the drawer messily. He pulled on the undergarment, his dirty, bloodied hands leaving prints. It took a while, his body hurt so much. He paused, counted to ten and then decided to try to stand.

Tiger used the dresser to pull himself from the ground. The dresser wasn’t heavy enough and he crashed backward, the dresser falling on top of him. He groaned, a stream of expletives escaping his lips. He pushed the dresser, slapping his hands against it in frustration. The dresser was flung across the room and Tiger laughed in delight.

He looked down at his hand; a large shard of wood had broken off. He curled his hand around the makeshift weapon and rolled back onto his knees. He crawled to the bed, climbing up onto the mattress. He sat for a minute, breathing heavily.

There was a sound outside the door, and Tiger had only a moment to make a decision.  The door knob twisted and the door was thrown open. Tiger brought the shard of wood up to his throat. The tip pressed into his bruised flesh, blood soaking into the porous fibers.

Tiger looked up and began to cry, the tears falling freely. His hand stayed at his throat, the wooden stake dangerously close to stealing his life. “Bunny?”

Barnaby’s handsome face twisted, every range of emotion displayed on his face. He rushed forward, throwing himself at Tiger’s feet. Barnaby looked up, tears streaming down his cheeks. He shook his head and gasped for air, “Tiger?”

“You came for me…” Tiger sobbed, his hand shaking at his throat.

“Of course, I came for you,” Barnaby breathed, gently taking Tiger’s shaking hand in his. He pulled the wooden shard from Tiger’s rigid fist and let it fall to the floor. “I would die for you.”

“You came for me…” Tiger repeated, his head dropping forward to rest on Barnaby’s shoulder. Barnaby pulled Tiger into his arms, cradling the older man. He climbed from the floor, careful not to jar Tiger too much.

“I’m taking you home.” Barnaby promised, grabbing a sheet from the bed and wrapping it around Tiger protectively. 

“Bunny…” Tiger could only cry. He had so much he wanted to say, but he struggled to even breathe.

Barnaby looked down at Tiger’s battered face. There was so much anger and hatred boiling under the surface, but one small feeling took seed more than any other. Barnaby tilted his head, kissing Tiger softly on the lips. He kissed Tiger’s wet, swollen eyelids. He kissed Tiger’s cheeks. “I love you.” Tiger’s entire body heaved, the tears shaking his body forcefully. Tiger opened his mouth to speak, but no words could come out. Barnaby nodded his head, pulling Tiger more closely to his body. “I know, Kotetsu…”

Barnaby carried Tiger from the bedchamber. He pressed against the wall, peering around corners as he went. Barnaby began to panic. It was at least two miles to where he left the horses. Everyone would be looking for them. And most importantly, if anything happened to him, Tiger would be alone and helpless _. I promised him_ , Barnaby reminded himself. _I told him I would take him home._

* * *

 

The sheriff paused outside of the bedchamber and exhaled loudly, closing his eyes. The door was slightly ajar and he kicked it open. He looked around the empty room and chuckled, shaking his head. He slammed his fist against the wall, kicking out sharply with his boot.  He leaned against the wall for a moment, deep in thought. And then he turned to the officer beside him and shrugged, “Where’d he go?”

“I don’t know, Sheriff.”

“Well…” the sheriff groaned into his palm. “Bring him back. Alive.”

“Yes, Sir. He couldn’t have gone far.”

“Oh, he didn’t go anywhere on his own,” the sheriff hissed. “Brooks was here.”

“There’s nowhere for them to go, Jake.” The man replied. “We’ll capture them soon.”

“Don’t capture Brooks, kill him.” The sheriff barked. “I only want Wild Tiger alive.” He paused, turning to face the man, “I want to kill _him_ myself.”

* * *

 

Barnaby rounded the house, creeping into the garden and carefully shutting the gate. The metal creaked and he held his breath anxiously. He looked around, the hairs on the back of his neck raising. There was movement behind him and cold steel pressed between his shoulder blades.

“Oh, if it isn’t Robin Hood.”

Barnaby turned slowly, his green eyes meeting the Judge Yuri Petrov’s. The Judge smiled gloomily, his sword pressing against Barnaby’s heart. His olive eyes roamed downward, focusing intently on Tiger resting in Barnaby’s arms. The Judge looked back up at Barnaby, tucking a pale strand of grey hair behind his ears, “You’re fugitives.”

“Yes.” Barnaby admitted, his voice firm and even. He stood straight and tall and brave, as if Tiger weighed nothing and, as if, the Judge wasn’t poised to kill him instantly.

“You’re a petty thief.” The Judge arched a thin brow, using the tip of the sword to expose Tiger’s face. When he looked at Tiger his eyes softened, but he looked back to Barnaby with cold, calculating eyes.

“No,” Barnaby jumped slightly as a whistle sounded. The sheriff’s men were beginning to scour the streets. Any moment now they would be discovered. Barnaby cleared his throat, shaking his head. “We aren’t keeping it for ourselves.”

“You rob from the rich to feed the poor.” The Judge’s lips pulled in a tight smile.

“Yes.” Barnaby tightened his hold on Tiger, his eyes staring stubbornly into the Judge’s. He wanted to turn and look, he needed to know how close they were… but he knew he couldn’t afford to look away from the Judge.

“They’ll be here soon.” The Judge mused.

“Please…” Barnaby pleaded unexpectedly. “Please, he doesn’t deserve to die.”

“And what about you?” The Judge asked.

“I don’t know what I deserve, but I want to live.” Barnaby answered. “I don’t want to die yet.”

The Judge lowered his sword, sheathing it without a word. He turned, his curly grey hair swishing behind him. He walked through the garden, his thin, pale hand trailing along the roses. He opened the door, holding it open with his foot. He looked at Barnaby, tilting his head to the side in gesture. “Welcome to my home, Robin Hood.”

Barnaby jogged to the door, turning sideways to slide inside. He stood in the kitchen, waiting unsurely as the Judge shut the door and turned the lock. He studied Barnaby for a moment before gesturing to the next room. “Please, make yourself comfortable. There is a chaise for him. I’ll put the kettle on.”

Barnaby walked into the salon. It was a magnificent room, full of tapestries and priceless artwork. Barnaby kneeled beside the chaise lounge, placing Tiger down gently. He brushed his hand over Tiger’s sweaty forehead and sighed. _Sleep it off,_ Barnaby thought. _You’ll be stronger when you wake._

He could hear the Judge moving around in the kitchen, which he considered strange, a house of this nobility and stature should have had a multitude of servants.  It appeared the Judge lived alone in the enormous estate. Barnaby sat down in a fancy, red chair, trying his best to appear calm and collected. “I’m afraid I am out of milk.” The Judge said, interrupting his thoughts. “I didn’t know I would be having guests and I’m not much of a milk drinker myself.”

Barnaby took the cup and saucer offered to him and smiled politely. “Oh, that’s fine.”

The Judge sat down in the chair opposite of Barnaby, his legs crossed and his teacup held in his lap. He watched Tiger’s body move up and down for a long moment before turning to Barnaby. “You won’t live to see tomorrow, if you don’t have a plan.”

“I didn’t plan to survive.” Barnaby admitted. “I thought he was dead.”

“Your life only holds value when attached to his?”  The Judge asked pointedly.

“I had lost everyone and everything,” Barnaby snapped. “I had nothing left on Earth.”

“Being lonely removes your purpose?” The Judge laughed softly, bitterly. He looked up, cutting his eyes. The house suddenly oozed with emptiness and despair. It seemed to close in on the Judge, the air blackening and cooling. It was almost as if a copious fog had settled over the man. “You must have more meaning to your life than that… Some cause you wish to see to the end…”

“I do.” Barnaby said simply. “I want to see things right again in Sternbild. I just, I… I forgot for a moment.”

The Judge nodded knowingly, a smile creeping onto his face. He took a sip of steaming tea and then placed his cup beside him on the table. He folded his hands in his lap and focused his attention on Barnaby. “Your friends are here. It’s just a small group. You should find them before it’s too late.”

“Friends?” Barnaby asked, furrowing his brows.

“They created quite a stirring distraction in the town square not so long ago.”

“But I-”

“Leave him here.” The Judge instructed, following Barnaby’s train of thought. “He will be safe.” The Judge drummed his fingers against the wooden arm of his chair. “Get your horses, find your men… Kill the sheriff…” Barnaby looked up at the Judge in surprise. The Judge simply stared back, his genuineness shining through his cold exterior.

“You’re the judge…” Barnaby said in surprise. “Don’t you…”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” The Judge said dismissively. “I am a judge because I believe in justice. I am no friend of the sheriff’s…”

“Complacency can be considered guilt.” Barnaby reasoned skeptically.

“That is rich, Barnaby Brooks, Jr.” The Judge leaned forward in his chair, his olive eyes flashing blue for a brief moment. “Who do you think had protected your location all this time? Who do you think has been allowing you to move so freely?” The Judge sat back and sighed. “Hurry. Go and end this.”

“I might die.” Barnaby said.

“You might, yes,”

“If I die… you’ll help him right?” Barnaby clenched his hands into fists as he spoke. “You’ll protect him until he regains his strength?”

“No,” The Judge answered unexpectedly. “I won’t.” The Judge stood up and walked toward the kitchen. Barnaby followed, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. He opened his mouth to protest but the Judge silenced him with a piercing look. “You’ll just have to come back alive, won’t you?”

“Thank you for stopping by.” The judge’s thin arm wrapped around Barnaby’s and he turned, pushing Barnaby back outside into the garden. He smiled sadly, his sunken eyes looking down. “I quite enjoyed the company.” And without further ado, he slammed the door in Barnaby’s face.

* * *

Barnaby’s stomach twisted painfully. He inhaled shallowly, his eyes searching the smoke-filled square. There were people lining the walls, their shirts over their noses and mouths. They watched incredulously as the men in front of them fought, with such inhuman strength and ability, it made the whispers of witchcraft hold even more weight.

Rock Bison threw two men into the air, charging through a huddled mass of armed officers. He was running out of steam quickly. He was sweaty, blood dropping down his temples. He licked his dry, chapped lips, inhaling painfully.

The air was toxic. Smoke billowed profusely, blinding and stinging the eyes. Fire Emblem was crouched behind the scaffold, holding their knees. They rested their head on their legs, regret and anxiety evident in their eyes. The whole town square would be in flames soon. A group of the sheriff’s men slowly approached Fire Emblem’s hiding place, each man holding a bucket of water.

“Fire Emblem! Rock Bison!” Barnaby called out. He ran forward quickly, eliciting a excited murmur from the crowd. “He’s alive.” Fire Emblem and Rock Bison turned, their faces full of unbridled relief. Barnaby didn’t know if they had even heard him or if just seeing _him_ was enough.

Barnaby didn’t bother unsheathing his sword. He had reached a level of furious passion that he had never come close to before. He felt the need to attack with his hands. Every bone that he felt crack beneath his hands was like a blossoming flower. The sensation started small and continued to grow and spread and bloom.

“Oh, Handsome!” Fire Emblem cried out, jumping out from behind the scaffold. “You’re alive…”

“Yeah…” Barnaby said as his fist connected forcefully with an officer’s nose. “And so is Tiger.”

“Oh my god.” Fire Emblem gasped, covering their mouth in shock. “Where is he?”

“Somewhere safe for now,” Barnaby answered.

“We’ve got to go!” Fire Emblem yelled, covering their ears with their hands. There was a loud explosion to their right as a barrel of gun powder exploded.

“I can’t.” Barnaby replied. “I have to stop the sheriff.”

“You are crazy.” Fire Emblem muttered, shaking their head.

“Maybe.” Barnaby agreed, smirking slightly. “But that’s still not very nice, Fire Emblem…”

“We will help you.” Rock Bison called over his shoulder. “That’s why we’re here!”

“How many of us are there?” Barnaby grunted, his energy focused on the two officers he was fighting.

“It’s just us,” Rock Bison answered sadly, his eyes darting toward the fountain before he looked away guiltily.

Barnaby’s eyes roamed through the square, settling on the bodies piled near the fountain. He recognized everyone; they were the men he had worked alongside for months. Barnaby sighed heavily, a painful lump in his throat. He swallowed and then, suddenly, his eyes widened in horror. 

All he could see was the pale blond hair and pale skin, but he knew it was Origami Cyclone. Barnaby cursed loudly, kicking the man in front of him so violently that the man’s leg broke with a sickly **SNAP!** “Origami…?” Barnaby couldn’t think of a way to finish.

“Yeah,” Fire Emblem answered reluctantly. “The sheriff.”

“Fire Emblem,” Barnaby yelled angrily, the veins in his neck throbbing. “Burn everything.”

“But…”

“Fire Emblem!” Barnaby shouted. “Just do it!”

* * *

 

Tiger stretched on the chaise, clicking his tongue in discomfort as his muscles ached and groaned. He rubbed his eyes, yawning. There was a sweet scent in the air, like vanilla and almonds. He inhaled deeply and smiled. Tiger’s amber eyes blinked open and he sat up, looking around the fancy parlor in confusion. “Bun-ny?”

“He isn’t here.” the Judge answered, taking a sip from his teacup and placing it back on the saucer. He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “He left…” the Judge looked toward the mechanical clock against the wall. “A little over two hours ago…”

“What?!?” Tiger exclaimed in disbelief, the stained bedsheet pooling around his waist. “He left me?” Tiger ran his hands through his shaggy hair, pulling down on his cheeks in exasperation. “He wouldn’t. What did you do to him? Where am I? What’s going on?”

The Judge merely smiled, gesturing a frail hand toward a tray of powdery white cookies. He cleared his throat, folding his arms in his lap. “Please have some lepeshki.”

Tiger eyed the little, round cookie, his tongue darting around his mouth as he considered. He shrugged and reached forward grabbing the cookie from the floral serving tray. He took a bite, slivers of almonds and crumbs falling into his goatee. “These are pretty good.”

“Thank you.” The Judge replied, his olive eyes watching Tiger with interest. “Please eat as many as you’d like.”

“Where’s Barnaby?” Tiger asked around a mouthful of lepeshki.

“He left.”

“Bullshit.” Tiger grunted, taking another cookie from the tray. When was the last time he’d eaten? He couldn’t remember. “Bunny wouldn’t just leave me with you…” Tiger gestured with his hands as he spoke. “I mean, come on! He is here to rescue me… where’d he go?” Tiger’s face fell, his hand slipping from the cookie tray. “He wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye…would he?”

“Mr. Brooks has every intention of returning,” the Judge insisted. “Please, Wild Tiger, eat. Have some water or tea. Regain your strength.”

“Where am I?” Tiger asked as he smacked his lips, the strong flour after taste making him thirsty.

“My home.” The Judge explained. “He brought you here …” the Judge’s face twisted into a peculiar smile “For safekeeping…”

Tiger took a swig of water, drinking straight from the carafe beside him. The water sloshed over the glass lip, pouring down his chin and bare chest. He replaced the carafe and looked at the Judge with sudden realization, “He went to fight the sheriff.”

“Yes.” The Judge replied with an indulgent nod.

“I have to stop him!’ Tiger sat up abruptly, his head swimming. His hips, legs, stomach and back burned. He doubled over, his hands on his knees. He inhaled and exhaled, counting to ten before straightening up. “The sheriff’s ability…”

“You’re really in no condition to fight.” The Judge reasoned. “Please take a seat and…”

“There’s no way!” Tiger roared, banging his fist against his palm. “I won’t abandon him! He needs me!” Tiger grabbed the sheet from the chaise and wrapped it around his stiff, sore shoulders. “I have to go…”

“I know,” the Judge shook his head, as if speaking to an excited child. “I was just going to say, eat a few more cookies before you go. I think you’ll find them very agreeable.” The Judge’s hand wrapped daintily around the handle of his teacup, the cup quivering as it was brought to his thin lips. “They are great for regaining strength.”

* * *

 

“Sir, we have to assemble the fire brigade.”

The sheriff shook his head, holding out his arms as his attendant outfitted him in armor. “I want every available man searching for Tiger.” The sheriff exhaled in frustration. “They must look in every house… every fucking barn…”

“Sternbild is burning…” the man argued. “The square is completely razed… the homes, they will…”

“Do as I say. I am going to go kill Barnaby Brooks, Jr.” the sheriff growled, snapping his head toward the nervous row of men. “I am not crazy! Stop thinking that I’m crazy! If we find one, we have leverage over the other… and then we squash them! We crush them so completely they die before they hit the ground.”

“Jake, Barnaby is here.”

The sheriff paused, his stomach fluttering with excitement. He nodded enthusiastically. “Great.”

The men exchanged looks and then bowed their heads in apology. However, the sheriff was too busy in his own thoughts to acknowledge anyone else in the room. Instead he grabbed his sword, holding it in both hands tightly. He flicked the sword, swishing it through the air, gazing at himself in the mirror all the while.

* * *

 

Barnaby stood across from the blazing square. He tucked away his spectacles and licked his dry lips. His throat tickled with thirst, but he ignored it, clenching his fists and standing defiantly. His green eyes were fixed to the main street of Sternbild. That would be where Jake Martinez showed up.

“Handsome,” Fire Emblem called out, holding their hands up to their mouth to shout. “You can’t stay here! The air…!”

Barnaby shook his head, ignoring them. It was unbearably hot, Barnaby felt as if he were boiling alive, but he refused to budge from that spot. The sheriff would be there any minute now, and Barnaby wanted him to know, he was willing to suffer any discomfort to defeat him.

“Fire Emblem!” Rock Bison yelled. “He’s suicidal… leave him be…” Suicidal? Barnaby had a hard time grasping the meaning of the word. How could he want to die? Tiger was alive and everything was okay now… How could he want to leave Tiger behind? _It was a foolish thought_ , Barnaby decided, dismissing it with a shake of his head. Fire Emblem was hesitant, unsure of what action to take next. Rock Bison’s voice roared over the fire, “Nathan! Get out of there!”

Fire Emblem’s eyes narrowed and without warning their body collided with Barnaby’s. Barnaby rolled and tumbled, Fire Emblem’s long and lithe body smacking against his over and over. Barnaby rolled into a garden, coming to a stop at the bottom of some stranger’s stoop. Fire Emblem crashed into the stone wall, their long legs up in the air almost comically.

“What the fuck?” Barnaby complained, climbing to his feet shakily. He brushed his clothes off, picking a bit of moss from his blonde hair. “Fire Emblem… what are you doing?”

Fire Emblem shook their head and climbed to their feet. “Listen, Handsome, you may be a cutie, but you’re a dummy.” Fire Emblem placed their dark, smooth hands on Barnaby’s face, turning his head to the side. “Look…”

The entire square was consumed by flames. The scaffold was gone, the fountain was hidden behind copious smoke, and even the stone seemed to be aflame. Origami Cyclone’s body, along with the others, was completely consumed. It was as if that space was melting completely. Barnaby wondered if the earth might just swallow up the entire square, leaving nothing but a gaping black hole.

“If you’re going to die today,” Fire Emblem panted, fanning themselves with their hand. “At least don’t let it be from friendly fire…”

“Nathan,” Rock Bison muttered, placing a tan hand against Fire Emblem’s thin forearm. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine…” Fire Emblem insisted, shuddering at the use of his birth name. “We can’t lose our focus though, the sheriff will…”

“The sheriff will be here any minute.” The sheriff finished with a grandiose bow. Barnaby’s skin prickled from the proximity of the sheriff. He turned, his green eyes wide in shock. The sheriff smiled, a truly sickening smile, and Fire Emblem let out a surprised gasp.

The sheriff placed his hand on Barnaby’s shoulder and squeezed. “Hello, BBJ…”

“Get your hand off of me.” Barnaby growled, chewing his words with vehemence. His head swam with rage, his eyes feeling as if they were in a boiling pot of water. His face reddened, his ears tinged pink. He clenched and unclenched his fists, his lips drawn tight. “You can’t just keep doing as you please.”

“Oh, but who’s going to stop me? A pretty little, soldier boy like yourself?” The sheriff reached up, stroking a strand of Barnaby’s long, flaxen hair. Barnaby nearly choked on his words. He spun around his sword swinging wildly. The sheriff parried each blow, laughing, taunting, further enraging Barnaby. Barnaby hacked at the sheriff, ignoring the pain as the sheriff sliced the flesh of his arms. “Why are you so mad, _Bun-ny_?”

Barnaby hesitated for a second, the use of his nickname causing his heart to plunge into his stomach. It was a personal thing, intimate, something just between him and Tiger. The sheriff had no business knowing it. And then, agony, fear, despair. How did the sheriff know? Had Tiger said it? Had Tiger called out for him? Barnaby swallowed the rising bile and gripped his sword with both hands.

The sheriff smiled, wiping the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve. “I’m going to kill you, _Bun-ny_.” The sheriff struck Barnaby in the thigh with his sword, wrenching it free with a sickening **SQUISH!** “And then I’m going to kill those two over there.” The sheriff pointed toward Rock Bison and Fire Emblem with his sword. “And then, I’ll have Wild Tiger all for myself.”

The sheriff looked up slowly, his blue eyes locking with Barnaby’s. Barnaby was silent and motionless, the two men staring at one another for an extended amount of time. The sheriff’s mouth twitched at the corners and he broke into a wide grin. “Do you want to know? You do, don’t you? You want to know if I fucked him.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Barnaby replied, frowning deeply. “Because you won’t ever get to touch him again!” Barnaby brought his sword upward swiftly, nearly knocking the sheriff’s sword from his hand. The sheriff growled and shook his head, muttering to himself.

“’ _Bunny_ ’,” The sheriff whined mockingly. “ _’Please Bunny, save me_!’ So pathetic. ‘ _Bunny! Make it stop, Bunny_ ’. He never stops talking…”

“Stop fucking talking! **Just** …” Barnaby smashed his sword against the sheriff’s armor. He pushed against the sheriff, sliding him backward. “ **Stop** …” Barnaby’s green eyes reflected blue and he punched the sheriff in the throat roughly. “ **Fucking** …” The sheriff dropped to the ground, rolling to the side as Barnaby stomped the earth with his foot. “ **Talking**!”

The sheriff’s eyes narrowed and he scrambled onto his knees, retrieving his sword before Barnaby could kick it away. The sheriff staggered to his feet, gulping for air audibly. He rubbed his throat bitterly, his face twisted into a snarl. “I don’t know how you manage to do that, but it won’t happen again.” The sheriff lunged forward, swiping and slicing at Barnaby, but no matter how Barnaby moved, the sheriff dodged.

Barnaby’s blood sprayed across the sheriff’s clothes and face. He smiled, his tongue darting out of his mouth for a taste. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” Barnaby asked with a grimace. He swallowed heavily, trying to ignore the deep gouge in his forearm.

“I wasn’t loved enough as a child.” The sheriff replied with a smile.

“You’re fucked up, you know that right?” Barnaby asked, stumbling slightly before righting himself.

“Keep talking,” The sheriff insisted. “Your power has its limits.”

“I have enough for you.” Barnaby lied. His head and arms felt heavy. He felt as if he couldn’t keep his eyelids from drooping closed. He had been fighting for so long, the air was thick with smoke, and the blood running down his arms was pooling underneath in a menacing amount.

“Before I kill you, before I gut you like a little piggy…” The sheriff drawled, his voice low and husky. “I’m going to tell you what I’m going to do to Kotetsu…”

At the mention of Tiger’s real name, something inside of Barnaby snapped. He dropped his sword, his fists connected with the sheriff over and over again. He dented the armor, pressing it into the sheriff’s body, causing much discomfort. He brought both of his fists down, smacking against the iron chest plate until the sheriff was on the ground. He lifted his foot, aiming to stomp on the sheriff’s head, but instead, his foot came down on the sword, the tip piercing through the boot and into Barnaby’s foot.

Barnaby cried out, yanking himself free of the blade. He staggered backward, falling into the dirt. He unlaced his boot and pushed it off, removing the blood-filled sock and throwing it to the ground. He examined the puncture, automatically, in too much pain to process the danger he was still in.

The sheriff shook his head, laughing cruelly as he brought the sword down against the back of Barnaby’s neck. The sword should have cut through the neck, perhaps needed one or two more chops to decapitate him cleanly, but instead the sword was halted in mid-air.

The sheriff looked up and into a pair of amber eyes and then down at the hand holding the sword’s blade. Tiger’s fingers bled profusely but he held firm, his face angry and disgusted rather than pained. He met the sheriff’s gaze and without looking away spoke to Barnaby, “Hey, Lil Bunny… don’t go running off without me again.”

Barnaby looked up at Tiger, an extraordinary sense of pride and affection swelling in his stomach. He nodded in agreement, moving quickly out of the path of the sword. He stood, one boot off and one boot on, blood soaking through his clothes, running down his skin and disappearing into the earth. “Tiger, are you alright?”

“Wild Tiger,” the sheriff cooed, as if he was truly and genuinely delighted to see the older man. “You’ve popped out of your hidey hole. You can watch me kill your lover now…”

Tiger’s eyes glowed an eerie blue, his handsome face serious. Instead of releasing the sword, his hand moved up the blade, his fist wrapping around the sheriff’s hand on the hilt. The sheriff’s eyes narrowed in confusion and he flicked his wrist, trying to shake Tiger’s grip. Tiger yanked roughly, bringing the sheriff’s body against his. He wanted to vomit, he wanted to shout and flinch and turn away, but instead he moved in, even closer, knocking his head against the sheriff’s.

The sheriff reeled and Tiger yanked again, this time dislodging the weapon from the sheriff’s grip. Tiger’s eyes glittered triumphantly and, without a word, he crushed the sword with his bare hands, twisting it into an utterly useless shape. He tossed the broken sword to the ground and turned, punching the sheriff square in the jaw.

The sheriff cursed, blood and spit spewing from his mouth. He hawked his throat loudly, shooting a tooth out from between his lips into the grass. “I don’t understand,” the sheriff said, panic setting into his nasal voice. “What are you… what are you thinking?”

Barnaby regained his composure and grabbed his abandoned sword. He held it tightly in his bloodied hands and approached the sheriff. Tiger lifted his hand, pressing his finger to his forehead, he shook his head and cut his eyes at the sheriff, “Careful, Bunny… this guy… he’s up here…”

Barnaby paused, hesitant and confused. His hands shook, his body becoming clammy and covered in sweat. “I don’t understand.”

“He can read minds.” Tiger admitted, and somehow, he felt a little strange saying so aloud. He had realized the sheriff’s ability in the chamber, but he had no way to prove it. He felt self-conscious and thick, but to his credit, the sheriff simply sighed. He didn’t laugh or call Tiger stupid. He only nodded and attempted to remove his heavily damaged armor.

“Then…” Barnaby said, realizing the deadly implications of fighting a mind reader.

“Then, this time…” Tiger said, offering Barnaby a small smile. “It’s better if we don’t have a plan.”

“It doesn’t matter, as soon as you think it, I hear it…” the sheriff spat. “You can’t beat me.” The sheriff laughed loudly, shaking his head with humorous disbelief. “You have no chance, I am invinci-”

The sheriff’s words were cut off as an arrow pierced through his throat, just inches above his chest plate. His hand shot upward and he ripped the arrow from his throat. It was a deadly wound, and to remove it meant an even swifter death. The sheriff’s mouth opened and blood bubbled over his lips and down his chin. He moved his lips, his teeth stained pink, and tried to speak. He looked up and around, searching for the archer who had defeated him.

But he couldn’t see. His vision darkened and he sank to his knees. He fell forward onto his hands and let out a gurgled cry. He screamed in agony, his life pouring out in scarlet streams. He gasped and choked as Barnaby’s leg connected with his ribs. He rolled onto his back, the wide sky above him.

“Stop, don’t, Bunny, no…” Tiger pleaded, pressing his palm against Barnaby’s chest. Barnaby’s eyes widened in shock and he opened his mouth to protest. “He’s an awful man,” Tiger agreed before Barnaby could speak. “And he… he…” Tiger’s voice cracked and he looked down shamefully. Barnaby tried to bypass Tiger, spinning around him to finish the sheriff off. “Stop! Bunny… he’s dying… just let him…”

“I want to squeeze his life out of his body, with my own hands,” Barnaby growled.

“I don’t want that!” Tiger exclaimed, shaking his head emphatically. “I don’t want you to stain yourself…” Barnaby shook his head apologetically but kept advancing. “I want you to be the good guy!” Tiger shouted, closing his eyes. He stood motionless, his body rigid and tense. He was prepared to hear the sickening cries of the sheriff, he was expecting to hear bones snap and twist.

But instead Barnaby’s hand slid into his. Tiger opened his eyes and looked at Barnaby, his stomach fluttering pleasantly. “Bunny?”

“Let’s go home.” Barnaby said, his hand squeezing Tiger’s gently, meaningfully. “I made a lot of promises and I intend to keep them.”

“Make one more.” Tiger whispered, pulling Barnaby’s other hand into his as well.

“What?” Barnaby asked breathlessly.

“Ask me again.” Tiger said softly, almost too quiet for Barnaby to hear him.

“Ask you what?”

“Ask me,” Tiger leaned in closely, his head rested against Barnaby’s chest. “Who has my heart.”

Barnaby lifted Tiger’s chin up gently and looked into the older man’s amber eyes. “Kotetsu…” For a long moment that was all Barnaby could manage to say. “Kotetsu, who has your heart?”

“You have my heart, Barnaby.” Tiger admitted. “I want you to promise, that you’ll take care of it.”

“B-B-B-Bunny!” Tiger said in surprise as Barnaby lifted him into his arms, and began carrying him princess style through the streets. “Wait… W-w-w-w-here are we going?”

“Rock Bison, Fire Emblem,” Barnaby called over his shoulder, ignoring Tiger’s protests. “Come on, we’re going home.”

“But, wait!” Fire Emblem called, darting through the decimated street after Barnaby and Tiger. They paused beside the sheriff, looking down at the dead man with overwhelming hatred. They huffed loudly and continued after the others. “Wait, Handsome! Don’t you want to know who killed him? Wait! Wait for me!” Fire Emblem tripped over some uprooted stone, “I said to fucking wait, asshole! Shit!”

Rock Bison turned, peering through the thick smoke and dust. He snapped to attention, catching movement on the roof of the church. Rock Bison squinted, there was a brief flash of long, gray hair and a glimpse of the bow held by a silvery, pale hand. The person disappeared around the steeple and Rock Bison nodded his head. He cleared his throat and began walking, calling after the others tiredly, “I’m right behind ya.”

* * *

 

**EPILOGUE**

“Is this right?” Tiger asked, frowning at his work doubtfully.

“Dad.” Kaede groaned, the single syllable dragged out with disappointment. “You did it upside down.”

“Gah!” Tiger looked down at the carved turnip and sighed. “I’m sorry, Kaede, I’m a useless father.”

“It’s okay,” Kaede said with a shrug. “Barnaby’s turned out okay.”

Tiger rolled his eyes and turned in his seat to inspect Barnaby’s turnip. It wasn’t much better. Tiger laughed, and pat Kaede on the head softly. “Let me see yours, Kaede.”

Kaede beamed, presenting her father with her carved turnip only a moment later. She held it up proudly for him to inspect and he smiled wide. “It’s wonderful. The best Samhain turnip I have ever seen. The fairies will love it!”

“Do you think the fairies know it’s Barnaby’s birthday?” Kaede asked, sitting beside her father closely. She rested her head in the crook of his arm and looked up at him, her eyes wide and excited.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Tiger sighed, turning to look at Barnaby. “I’ll bet they have their ways of finding out.”

“Fairies don’t exis-” Barnaby began matter-of-factly when Tiger pressed his finger to his lips, hushing him.

“Just watch, Bunny.” Tiger instructed with a smile. “You’ll see.”

As if on cue, the entire field, covered in a blanket of darkness, lit up. A thousand tiny lights erupted. The lights began to dance, over the grass, across the fields, into the trees, soaring into the sky. They moved slowly, and then rapidly, thousands of tiny, sparkling orbs.

“Look, Dad!” Kaede cried out excitedly. “Look, Barnaby, look!” She leaned across her father, tugging on Barnaby’s sleeve. “The fairies!”

Barnaby couldn’t help but smile. He nodded and laughed, watching the fireflies glittering across the sky and land like stars. Barnaby looked over, his eyes meeting Tiger’s. Tiger grinned happily and stood. He reached out for Barnaby’s hand and pulled him to his feet.

“Happy Birthday, Barnaby.”

“Thank you,” Barnaby replied, a silly smile twisting his handsome face. “I have to admit, I’ve never seen anything like this….”

“It’s the last dance of the fireflies.” Tiger explained. “Once winter comes, the _fairies_ go down below…” Kaede squealed in delight. She hopped from the bench and began to twirl in place, dancing happily. Tiger smiled, following behind Barnaby as he led him further into the field.

Barnaby stopped in the middle of the field, Kaede but a speck in the distance. He looked up at the silver stars and then all around at the golden fireflies. He cleared his throat and brushed his thumb against Tiger’s cheek. They kissed slowly, deeply.

“I love you, Kotetsu,”

“I love you, Bunny.”

Barnaby twirled Tiger around, a blush settling deep into both of their cheeks. Tiger closed his eyes as Barnaby leaned in for another kiss. And then they twirled again, Barnaby’s strong hands guiding Tiger’s slender body. “Hey, Tiger.”

“Yeah?” Tiger whispered, nearly out of breath from the intensity.

“I want this every year.” Barnaby said with a smile, his cheeks stained scarlet. “And for every birthday.” He kissed Tiger again and took a step back. “I want to share this last dance of the fireflies.”


End file.
